


Kalopsia

by say_im_good



Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Fantasy, M/M, aesthetic, hakyeon is too perfect to be real, neo - Freeform, taekwoon is a dreamer, very based on perception
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:47:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10986564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_im_good/pseuds/say_im_good
Summary: Finding a stranger injured and unconscious, Taekwoon takes him to get medical attention, unexpectedly stepping into a new world through the eyes of a strange boy who talks to the night sky.





	1. First Quarter

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross-posted on AFF under the same name ^^ Hello~ This is my first story posted on AO3, since I'm new here. I hope its ok ♥

He was laying back-down on the port, eyes filled with newly obtained knowledge that disguised itself as simple misery. The galaxies flickered in the night sky, purples and blues like deep bruises. Taekwoon didn’t find beauty in any of the colors, his interest not directed to the constellations scattered in the form of children’s pictures, not to the mist that dampened his skin with each brief breath that whisked by. Rather, in his eyes reflected the moon, a sliver of pure white amongst the surrounding darkness. His whispered words had long turned silent as his throat began to ache with a scratchy need for both refreshment and release. A tear trickled down his cheek, his face sticky with the remnants of its brethren. He’d once lost a friend, he’d once lost a dog. He’d lost his father, his mother upon growing up. And yet saying goodbye had never been this hard.   
   
This was his story.   
   
Neon lights, a beat that shook his heart to the extent of drawing anxiety into his trembling hands. Not like it was a difficult thing to do. Jung Taekwoon, college student studying literature, age twenty-two. The night sky was barren, save for a small sliver of moon tilting downward as if pouring the sourceless rain itself. There were no visible clouds in the deep, black abyss. And yet the droplets still fell determinedly, trickling through the thick of his hair, slipping down the bridge of his nose like a slide, kissing his skin with a damp breeze.  
   
A party; He was supposed to be inside with the others, his friend who invited him and his friend’s various friends. Lee Jaehwan, college student studying engineering, age twenty. Taekwoon didn’t know anyone besides Jaehwan, Jaehwan who was the type to run off and get wasted the moment he arrived to anything that sourced alcohol. Taekwoon never considered people who were drunk as conscious enough to be considered present, but he’d never spit to Jaehwan’s face the betrayal he felt when the other began chugging down the amber bottles with one in each hand, a roar of laughter echoing from the obnoxious group surrounding.   
   
Taekwoon wasn’t the outgoing type. Rather than parties he prefered books, rather than engaging in long conversations he delved deep into his own thoughts. It was the only reason why, in his sense of unease and abandonment, he didn’t call a cab to immediately take him home. Despite the fact that his hair and clothes were becoming gradually soaked by the mist-like rain that skittered down, Taekwoon considered the aesthetic appeal of his surroundings more important than the burden of sitting outside on a cold night in a strained downpour. He was a literature student after all. It was all about the effect.   
   
And hours passed like this, sitting in the rain, feeling his nose itching to begin running, knowing that he’d regret this decision of placement when he woke up with a cold and currently just not caring. It was easy for him to disappear in his own thoughts, only to dip out of the lake in his head with a rather disorienting realization that much more time had passed than expected. He was growing less and less surprised over time. Usually nothing shook him specifically, maybe a train horn in the distance could draw him out a little, but never, for example, Jaehwan waving his hand in front of his face, yelling at the ‘alien’ to come back to earth. What drew him back to the surface of his conscience was rather specific, compared to the usual bird chirping or door knob turning. It was a cough.   
   
There was an alley to his right, a street to his left. In front of him was something closer to a freeway, where cars would occasionally fly by and flick the puddles that hadn’t yet drained at him, whether intentionally or not. Taekwoon glanced around, wondering if the cough was just one of Jaehwan’s friends out for a smoke break. Maybe it was because of the dampness of the air, but he didn’t smell the stench of cigarettes. But who else would be out at four in the morning in this weather? 

It resounded again. He wanted to stand, his legs protested. After sitting for so long he was in a limbo between uncomfortable and too tense to rise, not in the right mood to want to stretch. Another cough, the same voice. He forced himself to his static-filled feet and clambered up using the pole holding the awning as a cane until he felt like he could properly keep his balance. He needed to get up anyway, and though it was hard to recognize a voice through a cough, he didn’t feel like it was very familiar. Curiosity whistled through him, a common occurrence. The noise was coming from the alley, a place that he surely wouldn’t have gone into if he wasn’t somewhat delirious from the atmosphere of being forgotten, expecting such to happen, of the rain falling down in sheer sheets and the skies black like pure emptiness above. He had no light on him, his phone being abandoned on some table in the tiny, run-down club that Jaehwan strangely found so much comfort in. The dim, probably dying street light did enough justice though, and he didn’t feel the creeping worry that he was about to be murdered, so Taekwoon considered it was safe enough and went in.   
   
Someone his age was on the ground near the club’s dirty brick wall, someone beautiful. He couldn’t quite tell if the person was a man or a woman at first, identifying more importantly that he or she was nearly spare a pair of dusty and horribly torn black jeans, Taekwoon too dazed in a distanced sense of reality to recognize that he should be more modest and avoid looking at someone with little clothing. His curiosity gained him information. The flat chest, the more defined curve of lean muscle in the only arm that was visible from the distance lamp’s light. A male. With blood trickling from wide scrapes, with a fierce shiver tearing through his body, the young man looked sickly. His eyes were squeezed shut, only tightening when Taekwoon carefully placed his hand on a delicate shoulder. He was soaked and he was freezing. More importantly, he wasn’t waking up.  
   
Taekwoon contemplated this, contemplated the fact that Jaehwan and his friends would probably pretend to be worried over this boy then would drunkenly forget about his existence before even calling for help. Every other business was closed, and no one lived nearby. It seemed like for the next few hours, he himself would be the only spectator of this beautiful male, laying with pain etched onto his soft features, hands curled in loose fists, knees pulled up near his chest. He felt no panic, just a mild sense of duty, of confusion, of wonder. He was distanced from the world, and when he got like this it was hard to return to reality, to the fact that he should be scared or worried or something, he should be rushing in to call the police or the ambulance. Instead, Taekwoon lifted the boy into his arms and started walking.   
   
He was light, light as a feather, far lighter than a boy of his height and stature should have been. His drenched, dyed hair was creating a transparent water stain on Taekwoon’s shirt right at heart-level, the cold on such a sensitive area making his stomach tense. Walking down the middle of the empty freeway, carrying an unconscious and vaguely injured stranger, it was all so surreal. His destination would surely be closed until morning, but morning wasn’t so far away and the stranger seemed to be breathing steadily. Taekwoon figured that was a decent sign that he’d be able to survive until the man Taekwoon was considering would arrive.  
   
It was a twenty-minute walk, and his hands were numb with both the chill and the awkward position of carrying someone, even a person without much weight. The doctor’s office was almost as run-down as the club was, but in a more comfortable sense. Now there were gentle pink bricks that had lost their bold color over weary years, the cushions of the rocking chair outside torn from wear. Taekwoon rested carefully on a swinging bench, positioning the beautiful man to be using his thigh as a cushion to support his neck. There was an awning above that shielded them from the rain that was gradually beginning to fall in actual drops now, making a soft pattering noise above.   
   
His focus was dedicated to this person, with butterscotch skin so smooth yet tarnished by the rough scrape grazed across his left cheek. His eyes were almond shaped, his face more heart-like, and Taekwoon was somewhat intrigued to see no traces of makeup despite how flawless his skin appeared. Even he himself wore a little to mask to the random marks and scars that brought him insecurity without a subtle cover, he figured that everyone did. His hair was a glistening shade of silver, soaked and sticking to his forehead. The stranger’s skin though was free of product, gentle and still slightly damp, reminding Taekwoon of the softness of a baby. The moment he reached down to touch, the second the pad of his forefinger dipped into the smoothness of the boy’s cheek, almond eyes flickered open.   
   
And as they gazed towards one another, Taekwoon realized that this person was cold. Not in the way of concrete on bare feet in the winter, not in the way of steel appliances or narrowed glares. He was cold in the manner of snow, soft and delicate to the extent that Taekwoon didn’t even realize that his finger was stinging from the chill until moments after the stranger had already sat up to break physical contact. His eyes glistened with the light of white, flickering stars, his nearly white hair was dusted messily over gentle brows. When asked his name, he simply released a smile that was loose, ready to fall back to the stoic resting state that words hadn’t previously disrupted. ‘Hakyeon’, a soft voice echoed. No surname, no occupation, no title, just…. Hakyeon.   
   
Besides that one name uttered on a gentle breath, there were no words distributed between them. Taekwoon was, as stated, an introverted person by nature, and Hakyeon seemed too interested in the world around him to bother opening his mouth. Those big, beautiful eyes were distracted by every motion, but mostly with Taekwoon. He blushed as he felt exposed under those glistening eyes that examined every inch of his body shamelessly, curiously, as if this person had never seen another man before.   
   
Two hours passed, and the old man finally arrived with the rising sun. The doctor had pulled Taekwoon aside once the young male was fast asleep in the daze of painkillers and a warm, cushioned place to sleep in comparison to the old alley. He explained that the majority of the wounds were skid marks, asking Taekwoon if he’d fallen off a motorbike or something and crawled into the alley. Taekwoon simply claimed the truth, that he didn’t know. All he knew was that his name was Hakyeon and that he was beautiful, that the glisten in his eyes was almost inhuman and drew Taekwoon in so deeply that he wished Hakyeon was awake to be staring at him again.   
   
He was told to go home and bluntly refused, then told to go home once more and did so. The doctor was a kind man at heart but a rough one by skin, someone who would blatantly inform Taekwoon that he barely had enough resources at the moment to care for Hakyeon overnight, let alone a visitor. He took a taxi back to his and Jaehwan’s apartment, noting how empty and quiet it was (as it always was in the mornings), noting also how it was either this or the walls trembling with a bass so powerful the music could barely be heard around it. 

He went to his job at the grocery store, stocked shelves for six hours, then walked the two hour distance back to the doctor just to find that Hakyeon had left without a word to the man when he went out to get dinner, the beautiful male now gone without a trace. 

   
Four days passed before he physically saw Hakyeon again despite seeing him in his mind constantly through vivid daydreams. It was on his way home from work, Taekwoon sighing as his arms ached from lifting an especially heavy load of boxes that day, knowing with the hopeless monotony of life that he’d be doing the same thing tomorrow as well. It was normal to hear people yelling at each other on these city streets, possibly too normal to be healthy. But when he saw the ajumma going off on a silent, silver-haired boy for being mannerless, the male bowing and bowing and seeming confused as to why all this bowing was yielding no results, Taekwoon stepped in.   
   
“Ajumma please. This is my friend, he’s new to the country so whatever he said or did was probably unintentional…” The lady scoffed. “He’s new? He looks Korean to me! Pretending to ignore me when I ask for his help, what an awful generation you lot are…” Taekwoon grit his teeth, not wanting to disrespect the woman but feeling his irritation building. “Ajumma, no matter what his heritage is, he wasn’t born here and doesn’t speak our language. He can’t help that his parents are Korean. Would you yell at any other foreigner for these things?” The woman scoffed before turning and shuffling away without another word.   
   
Taekwoon sighed, wondering if he just lied to the elderly today. It would make sense though, the fib he made up impulsively. Hakyeon never spoke the entire night that Taekwoon and the doctor were around him, and the way he was reacting to the woman showed that he didn’t know much about customs. “Are you foreign?” Taekwoon asked, Hakyeon giving his words a thought before softly nodding, seeming a little anxious still over the exchange he’d just had. ‘At least he can understand me,’ Taekwoon thought before sighing and motioning for Hakyeon to walk with him.   
   
“Where are you staying?” Hakyeon bowed his head a little before muttering softly, “Between the buildings.” The alley. He was sleeping in the alley and his Korean wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be. Why was he faking not knowing the language? Was he just shy? “You can’t sleep there. It’s illegal, but it’s also really dangerous.” As they walked, Taekwoon could hardly remove his eyes from the other male despite the fact that he was currently scolding him. Hakyeon’s hair was untidy, probably from sleeping on the ground, and his skin glowed in the sun… wait… wasn’t he badly wounded before? With no bandages to mask them there should’ve been the scrape wounds all over the exposed portions of his body. And yet his skin was flawless...   
   
Taekwoon almost mentioned it before deciding that there were other matters to prioritize first before Hakyeon ran away again. “Follow me. You can live with me.” It was an impulsive decision to say the least. Hakyeon was weird, that was just the truth, so inviting someone he’d only met in a dark alley and on the street getting screamed at probably wasn’t the safest idea. Jaehwan would probably love it, but only because Hakyeon fit his definition of a ‘cute piece of ’ that Taekwoon had memorized unintentionally overtime. His biggest hope was that his roommate wouldn’t scare the guy into living on the street again.   
   
Hakyeon’s eyes though, when Taekwoon offered him a place to stay… They were beautiful, they always had been beautiful, but damn, how the light in them flash straight to Taekwoon’s sunken heart. He peeled his gaze off of butterscotch skin and made his way quickly home. Someone once said that impulsive decisions were sometimes the best ones. He could only hope that this was one of those situations. He could hear Hakyeon’s steps behind him, a very short distance that Taekwoon would normally feel uncomfortable with. He wondered why the anxiety of having someone nearly breathing on his neck didn’t trigger. He tried to forget about it just in case it suddenly would.   
   
The apartment was small and probably wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable if it weren’t so cluttered. Wrappers, beer cans, and plastic bags amongst countless other things were strewn around the browned carpet, the wafting scent of cigarette smoke radiating throughout the house. Jaehwan didn’t smoke, Taekwoon didn’t either, but despite it being their apartment it was never just them. Jaehwan’s friends were there more than either of them, and Taekwoon didn’t mind the scent of cigarette smoke at all so he didn’t argue when they’d light up while watching tv or chatting. It was an almost welcoming scent, the scent of home, and it wasn’t until Leo heard a rough cough behind him that he remembered that some people weren’t quite used to the unhealthy aroma.   
   
Hakyeon had his sleeve over his nose, having stopped in the doorway. His eyes were wide as he stared at Taekwoon in something akin to disbelief, as if asking how he could just walk in so carelessly. He sighed; It couldn’t be that bad. He figured that Hakyeon couldn’t be that much of a health junkie if he was so okay with sleeping in alleys. A small trickle of guilt slipped into his throat immediately after thinking that, remembering the bruises and scrapes all over Hakyeon’s body when he was found; He probably hadn’t wanted to sleep there, had probably just been too weak to find somewhere cleaner. He was assuming.   
   
Somewhere amidst the junk in the kitchen drawers he found a small, unopened box of medical masks, the kind people wore on the streets either when sick or when there was too much pollution around. No one had used them obviously, the masks probably (like most other things in the apartment) being an impulse buy. It worked out, and Taekwoon ripped open the box on his way back across the room to an anxiously waiting Hakyeon. He wasn’t expecting the masks to be assorted, most just plain white but others decorated with small patterns. But Hakyeon seemed dead set on not moving his hand away from his face, glancing between the box and Taekwoon in plain confusion. 

“Have you not seen these before? They’re just masks…” Hakyeon had said that he was foreign, but Taekwoon figured anywhere in the world had masks like these. Maybe he was from the west though, where they weren’t so popular. That might explain something, though other things were left in the air. “Oh...,” Hakyeon whispered, nodding softly though it was clear that he didn’t really understand still. “Right…” Taekwoon slowly muttered before shuffling through the box, opting to grab a plain white one before Hakyeon quickly stepped forward, grabbing the box from him with one hand and holding a deep breath with slightly puffed cheeks as he lowered the sleeve blocking his face. He then slipped out one of the decorated ones. It was dark, a deep purple and black ombre with little white speckles that were clearly supposed to indicate stars. Hakyeon smiled a little as he held it back out to Taekwoon, releasing his breath just to ask, “How to use?”  
   
After teaching the clueless man how to loop the mask around his ears, Hakyeon seemed a little more relieved, walking further into the house and glancing around. Taekwoon felt a creeping sense of anxiety welling up again. He was used to people who were comfortable in a trashed out house, but he realized now that most weren’t like him or Jaehwan or Jaehwan’s friends in those regards. What if Hakyeon thought the place was too gross or something? But rather than that, the silver-haired male simply sat down on the grimy couch, it sagging harshly under his meager weight. He stared up at the dusty, unused ceiling fan; The switch had been broken for years. His eyes drifted to the cracked mirror, some antique Jaehwan’s mother had given him, having been broken in a reckless scuffle. The water-damaged ceiling, the bucket in the middle of the floor to catch the leak when it rained, the half-empty lighters scattered around, the trash bags hanging on the doorknobs, the hole in one of the bedroom doors that Taekwoon himself had made one night when it all became too much. He didn’t realize how weighing the atmosphere was. “It’s sad here,” Hakyeon quietly, emotionlessly said, the first words spoken that weren’t a question or an answer. And Taekwoon silently agreed.   
   
“You don’t have to stay here…” He started, wondering why his heart fell. Maybe he wanted to be a help to someone, maybe he wanted to do something good. He should’ve realized he and his situation were incapable of assisting anyone. But Hakyeon shook his head before he could continue. “I want to,” the soft voice sang out. And Taekwoon didn’t question it any further.  
   
Jaehwan didn’t say much, but the arch of his eyebrow was enough of a signal that he was surprised Taekwoon had actually made a ‘friend.’ He quickly discovered that Hakyeon wasn’t exactly what he was expecting though, and while he’d drone over what a cutie Taekwoon’s new grab was, how innocent and sweet and ‘totally able’, he got bored after a while. Jaehwan wasn’t the type of to act on his words, but Jaehwan’s friends were scum, so Taekwoon practically ordered that Hakyeon never leave the bedroom when they were around. The smaller male agreed rather easily; It wasn’t like he seemed to have anywhere else to go anyway. 

Three days passed quickly, but even still it somewhat felt like Hakyeon had been there forever. It was almost natural, walking into his room after a long day of work and seeing him curled up on the bed, staring at a random page of the same book. His eyes didn’t scan back and forth like a reader’s eyes, and he never flipped the page. Taekwoon had placed an English novel on the table just in case that might catch Hakyeon’s interest, but he hadn’t touched it yet. Maybe he was from somewhere else entirely. But when he’d ask Hakyeon would just stare at him emptily, or occasionally would look down as if guilty and softly reply that he didn’t understand. Taekwoon tried not to push too much; He didn’t like seeing that expression, didn’t feel comfortable with how those eyes would just barely dull every time he pressed.


	2. Constellations

It was a moonlit Wednesday night, day four of Hakyeon’s stay in their apartment, when things changed. Taekwoon had sauntered into the apartment, giving the front door an extra shove for good measure; It had been cracked open when he arrived and they really didn’t want the leasing office to notice how wrecked the place was. The living room was empty, but the humidity and distinct scent in the air was enough to clarify that Jaehwan was home, just choosing to hotbox in his bedroom. Taekwoon tossed down a small plastic bag, not bothering to adjust it when it slipped from the corner of the coffee table to the floor. It was just some noodles and cheese, he figured Hakyeon might appreciate a home cooked meal since Taekwoon could never give him more than dollar meals or packaged ramen. Their kitchen was ransacked and certain things like the oven were inaccessible with all of the clutter, but he could manage mac and cheese. But when he pushed open his bedroom door, the feeling of vacancy hit him before his eyes registered why that sense was suddenly ringing. The room was empty. 

 

He wasn’t sure why he panicked, but he did. It was more like losing a house cat or a puppy than losing a person, and he found himself shoving open every door, even bothering a stoned Jaehwan to ask if he’d seen Hakyeon leave, the answer being a very blurred ‘no’ and some jumbled mess of words that Taekwoon didn’t take the time to piece together. The door was cracked, and anyone who frequented the apartment should have known that it wasn’t holding shut without being jammed into place. Why had Hakyeon walked out…? He considered briefly that Hakyeon was his own person, that as clueless and clumsy and inhuman as he seemed he could still take care of himself, but that was quickly whisked away as he darted down the street, looking around the corners and in every alley he could find before his phone was buzzing with a barely important text from his coworker and ‘2:00 am’ was flaring up at him. His heart fell and he trudged back to the apartment, considering leaving the door unlocked in case Hakyeon had just gone to wander and gotten lost. But he needed to sleep for work. He just had to hope that Hakyeon would be okay until morning.

 

Sure enough, when Taekwoon opened his bedroom door the next evening, Hakyeon was curled up under his blankets, seeming to be progressively making himself more and more at home as the days passed. “Where did you go last night? I was…” Worried, he wanted to say, but that would sound stupid. Upset? He was, but that might make Hakyeon feel guilty for something that was completely reasonable. “I was looking for you,” Taekwoon decided, stuttering a bit on his words. “I was going to make dinner but you were gone…” Hakyeon tilted his head down, his eyebrows creasing together in the way that they did when he was about to apologize, Taekwoon not getting the chance or the confidence to tell him he didn’t have to when it came. “I’m sorry.” It was nearly all that he said anymore, not so much in a lack of self-esteem but seemingly more because Hakyeon didn’t speak unless he felt obligated to. “I was making friends.” Taekwoon wondered if the stumped and somewhat surprised expression that surely crossed over his face at that was rude, pressing that down for more important matters. “Friends?” As harsh as it was, Hakyeon didn’t seem like the socializing type. But there he went assuming again; Jaehwan’s group was rubbing off on him more than he wanted to admit.

 

“Mhm. I’m going to talk to them tonight, too. Do you want to come?” Taekwoon at this moment realized that Hakyeon’s Korean was very on point for someone who claimed to be brand new to the area. He didn’t press anymore, it wasn’t worth the guilt of that pitiful expression, but he figured he had the right to be uneasy that the stranger living in his bedroom probably was lying to him, either that or not telling the whole truth. The main reason that he’d let Hakyeon live with him was probably that he didn’t radiate creepy like most of the people Taekwoon was forced to hang around, but he knew that instinct wasn’t the best judge of character. But once again, he didn’t feel like he was about to be murdered, so he sighed and nodded, rubbing his temples as he tried to process how strange this entire situation was. “Sure. I’ll go.” Why not? Jaehwan would be out, and would never take no for an answer when asking if Taekwoon would come unless Taekwoon had other plans. Surely meeting Hakyeon’s supposed friends might be better than hovering around Jaehwan’s like he was nonexistent until he worked up the halfhearted energy to just walk home.

 

The streetlights were just kicking on when Taekwoon locked the apartment door behind him, shoving his keys into his tight jean pockets and following a waiting Hakyeon down the concrete stairs. It was silent, at least the closest thing to silence you could get in the city, the constant street noise growing so familiar that it only existed subconsciously. Hakyeon walked with a spring in his step, an excitement, his head tilted up as he stared at the sky. Taekwoon found himself following suit. It was simple sky that evening, the sunset with it’s pastel colors casting behind them, leaving a dull, greyish blue shadow in the direction that they were going. The moon was up, but against the city lights and the brilliance of the red sun, it was just a little bleach stain in the sky. Taekwoon’s legs were used to walking far distances like this, having no other transportation if he didn’t want to pay for a cab or a driver that would get stuck in traffic and take the same amount of time to arrive at the destination as walking anyway. That was how the city worked, and Taekwoon didn’t mind it after years of living there. He wondered how Hakyeon was doing though, seeming fine despite surely being more used to a vehicle like most people were. They had been going for about twenty minutes when Hakyeon took a sharp left turn that threw them under the shade of some trees, soft lamps lighting up the sign to the park entrance.

 

Taekwoon suddenly noticed for the first time since the day they had met that Hakyeon was beautiful. Sure, he’d recognized it every time he looked at the other male, every time he met those almond-shaped, dark but sparkling eyes, every time he woke up in the middle of the night to peek over the bed to the futon on the floor, where Hakyeon’s skin would glow a honey color under the streetlights casting in through the dirty window. But now he was hit with it, this wave of awe, of Hakyeon radiating. He wondered if he was just way too distanced from the void of reality, seeing this man as far more perfect than he actually was. Taekwoon would do that sometimes, seeing the simple things as complicated or the complicated things as simple. But his eyes were lost in the flawless skin and the silver hair that glowed under the moonlight, those eyes with depths that never ended and that very rare smile that sent a boundless wave of movement somewhere deep inside, where Taekwoon figured his soul rested. Hakyeon was weird, Hakyeon was somewhat suspicious, and yet Hakyeon was ethereal beyond Taekwoon’s understanding. “You’re really beautiful,” he breathed without intention, biting his lip immediately after upon realizing that most people would take more to that phrase than he intended to give. But Hakyeon didn’t seem confused or flustered when his steps slowed and he turned back to Taekwoon. In fact, his eyes reflected something much more dismal, melancholy, as if Taekwoon had reminded him of something painful, a weak smile saying the words that Hakyeon never spoke out loud. ‘Please don’t say that again.’

 

He was quiet, uneasily so, for the rest of their walk. How else was he supposed to respond when a so-called compliment was taken more like an insult? Hakyeon had his eyes cast either to the sky or the ground, never looking straight ahead, never looking at Taekwoon until he finally stopped in the middle of an open field, one that Taekwoon didn’t even notice that they were walking into until there was nothing surrounding for a good quarter mile. It reminded him of a tv show where they’d take people out to fields like these to kill them. However he still didn’t feel the murderer-vibe nor the danger-sensing anxiety that he seemed so prone to catching, so he threw that thought away and very carefully spoke, as if worried that he might say something wrong again. “Where are you friends?” The field was empty, and there was no one within sight despite how they could see a good distance around them in a full circle. This was when Hakyeon suddenly dropped to his knees and fell back, Taekwoon almost panicking, almost, before realizing that he was fully conscious, staring straight ahead. “Up there,” Hakyeon breathed dreamily, his finger still and precise as it pointed straight up to the night sky.

 

In a similar manner to the night he had found Hakyeon in that alley, Taekwoon figured he should feel and react as a normal person would if they walked forty minutes to an abandoned park to be told that the friends they were meeting was just the sky. They probably would have been irritated, confused. But Taekwoon found himself lowering to lay beside Hakyeon, staring up at the rather boring-looking sky that the other seemed to find so much interest in at the moment. “The sky?” Hakyeon shook his head. “The stars, the moon.” Taekwoon whispered a quiet ‘ah’ despite not really understanding. The simple answer was that Hakyeon was crazy, but that just didn’t feel right. He found himself staring at the other male rather than at the sky, Hakyeon being too lost in the depths of the world above to notice. His eyes were bright like a child’s, flickering between stars as if reading them, seeming so attentive as if he were listening to something despite how silent it was, actually silent this time, no city noise or wind blowing to form a distraction. The quiet was unsettling for someone who was used to noise, and Taekwoon wondered why he felt like he was interrupting something when he spoke again. “Can you read them?”

Half of him felt like he was speaking to a small child, asking questions about silly things because no one wanted to kill the hope of someone so innocent, yet the other half was genuinely curious, as if he was also a small child wanting to see whatever Hakyeon saw. The silver-haired male nodded, parting his lips for a second as if contemplating what to say before smiling a bit and answering genuinely, “They think you’re interesting.” He wasn’t expecting that. He felt uneasy, the realistic part of his brain begging him to understand the obvious truth that the stars had no opinion on him, the stars didn’t have brains, they couldn’t think, but he was too lost again to be able to reason with reality. He was always a dreamer, and maybe Hakyeon was just another dreamer that was even deeper than him. “Interesting?” He nodded. “They say you’re not like most other humans.” The next while was silent, and Taekwoon didn’t know how much time had passed. Hakyeon’s expression changed often over the course of this time though, and was currently filled with that same lingering sadness that had formed when Taekwoon had accidentally called him beautiful. “What are they saying now…?” Taekwoon asked this time, Hakyeon blinking slowly, parting his lips to reply before seeming to change his mind, very gently closing them without word. Once more, no answer was needed, and Taekwoon didn’t ask when Hakyeon very quietly said that it was time to go home and rose to his feet, just barely waiting for him to do the same before walking off again.

 

They didn’t arrive back at the apartment until close to five-thirty in the morning, Taekwoon just feeling relieved that he didn’t have to go to work in a few hours, having the day off. As soon as he entered the bedroom he collapsed face-first onto the bed, Hakyeon coming in a few moments later with the same starry mask draped over his nose and mouth. “That mask is supposed to be disposable, you should probably get a new one,” Taekwoon muttered, suddenly feeling the exhaustion hit hard after nearly being awake for twenty-four hours. He didn’t get how Jaehwan could go for days without sleep; He was already completely drained, barely able to keep himself awake as the semi-important realization hit that Hakyeon had worn the same mask constantly in the apartment for a good five days. “I like this one,” Hakyeon mumbled, still seeming a little out of it ever since they left the park. Something seemed heavy on his mind, and Taekwoon figured he shouldn’t be disturbing him right now but… “It’ll stop filtering the smoke though. If you want I can try and draw something like that on one of the plain ones, but if you really don’t like that smoke you probably won’t want to wake up with a face full of it.” Hakyeon’s eyes went wide in fear before he quickly shook his head, muttering a quiet ‘okay.’ Taekwoon decided to draw the mask after he rested a bit so that it wouldn’t confirmedly look like a toddler’s work, rolling over in his blankets and falling asleep the moment he shut his eyes.

He dreamed of Hakyeon, as usual as of late. This time he was at an outdoor mall with him, sipping on a latte while Hakyeon was playing with the straw of a frappuccino with his lips. It was comfortable, it was perfect, and despite it being daytime in the dream Taekwoon could see the stars and moon very clearly in the sky. Hakyeon didn’t seem to notice though, too distracted with the surrounding area, with the straw of the chai-flavored drink that he wasn’t actually consuming, with tightening his fingers around Taekwoon’s hand every time an old lady drew too close as if scared she would scold him. He woke up with hazy vision of his water-damaged ceiling, the horns honking and cars whisking by, the light filtering in declaring that it was sometime in the late afternoon where the sun was just beginning to set. He’d slept way longer than he had planned, but it wasn’t really a big deal, and upon peeking over the side of the bed he noticed that Hakyeon was sleeping in as well.


	3. Full

Taekwoon rose, stretching his arms above his head, popping his back. There was a girl named Jessica passed out on the couch, half her body practically falling off though the cushion sagged so much that she wasn’t that far from the floor anyway. Jaehwan was sitting on the floor nearby, watching tv and groaning out as Taekwoon passed him to get to the kitchen, “Woonie, think you can get me some water?” He ignored him but ended up bringing a half-filled glass of red gatorade on his way to dig through all of the garbage on the ground, finally finding what he was looking for: A set of kid’s markers. The orange and the brown were missing but that was okay, Taekwoon didn’t need those. He read the back of the box to make sure they were completely safe though; He didn’t need to get Hakyeon high by putting something akin to sharpies right by his nose at all times, though he did somewhat wonder what Hakyeon would act like under influence. He couldn’t really picture him getting much dopier than he already was, though that was in an affectionate sense at this point.

 

It took a while, probably longer than it should have, to draw something similar to what Hakyeon was wearing. On one of the previously white masks was a picture of a sky, though Taekwoon had taken the effort to blend blue and purple together (as well as he could on something as flimsy as a face mask) and add swirling effects, having been interested in art once upon a time and knowing certain skills to some degree. He left plenty of spaces white for the stars, as well as a full moon in the corner. To waste some time, he also shaded in the bottom dark green, hoping that it represented the park as much as he thought it did. Leaving the mask on the table to dry, Taekwoon then stood and threw open the fridge, shoving around various leftovers, a pizza box, and bottles of various alcohols with various amounts inside to get to the cheese he had bought a few days prior. If any time was a good time to cook, it was after sleeping the entire day away and having no obligations for hours. As he cooked, Taekwoon shoved an interested Jaehwan away a few times, finally just throwing his own bottle of painkillers at his roommate and telling him to swallow a few and pass out. Nursing a heavy hangover, it seemed like the slightly younger man chose to not have a throbbing migraine over the savory smell of Taekwoon’s cooking.

 

After finishing and dishing the meal out onto two plates, Taekwoon peeked into the room to see Hakyeon just barely waking up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and glancing up at him. He couldn’t help but smile, figuring that while Hakyeon still looked beautiful in this moment, he also looked kind of cute. “I made dinner. I figured you might want to eat something that doesn’t taste like cardboard.” And he was up in moments, standing too quickly and disorienting himself but hurriedly following Taekwoon out to the kitchen, eyes flickering to the now two people passed out in the living room as he went. He seemed to decide not to mind them, probably heeding Taekwoon’s warning to avoid the group too well. He didn’t intend to make Hakyeon scared of Jaehwan and his friends, but what worked worked. The ‘stranger’ (he really didn’t see Hakyeon that way anymore though, despite only knowing him for around a week) followed his nose to the table, sitting down and just barely waiting before beginning to eat at the cheesy noodles at full speed. Taekwoon couldn’t help but chuckle, muttering quietly, “You’re going to feel sick if you eat that fast.” Hakyeon didn’t even seem to regard the words and Taekwoon shrugged, getting to his own portion.

 

As they ate, Hakyeon eventually slowed, seeming to grow less eager to scarf down the food once his stomach stopped rumbling. In fact, he eventually stopped entirely, hand still delicate around his spoon (Taekwoon didn’t want to risk the awkwardness of him possibly not knowing how to use chopsticks) but eyes just barely lingering in reality now, dull with distance. “What are you thinking about?” Taekwoon asked curiously, filling his mouth with a small portion of noodles and staring at Hakyeon’s suddenly downcast expression again. “You,” the other softly replied, very slowly as if he weren’t sure if he should be saying it. “I’m thinking about you.” Taekwoon paused, jaw half slack as he forgot to chew for a moment, wondering if he should feel flustered or uncomfortable, his brain not being able to decide and flickering between the two too rapidly for him to easily handle. “Me?” he coughed a bit, Hakyeon slowing nodding, eyes focused down on the table and never rising to meet Taekwoon’s. Suddenly he pushed back his chair, bowing somewhat unexpectedly. “I’m grateful for the meal, Taekwoon-ah.” And then he was gone, making his way out the door before Taekwoon could do so much as stand. Hakyeon’s bowl was half empty, and he wondered if the other really had been filled up from that small portion. Furthermore, he was worried, but he actually did have work the next day. Taekwoon never struggled falling asleep in any situation, so despite the fact that he had only been awake for a few hours, he made his way back to his room and laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering why the place felt so vacant without Hakyeon laying there on the floor.

 

Work was dull, the day was duller, the sky still dim and grey despite the fact that there were no clouds anywhere to be found. The sun was meagerly shining, and it was cold enough to trade out the light jacket for a fluffy black coat that Jaehwan always claimed made Taekwoon look like a penguin against his thin frame and pale skin. Taekwoon remembered Hakyeon running out into the night with nothing but one of Taekwoon’s oversized t-shirts; He considered that he hadn’t actually seen the other male since that night and just hoped that Hakyeon hadn’t frozen somewhere. Taekwoon wanted to have more faith in him but… he didn’t take the clueless man to be able to tell when he was dying of cold.

 

A trip to the grocery store, another to the gas station; Jaehwan had let him borrow his car for the sole purpose of filling up the tank. The twenty dollars felt worth it though; Taekwoon was tired and it was freezing, which made walking to work and back seem like a daunting, uncomfortable task. It took more time than it was worth trying to find a parking space in the crumbling apartment complex’s small lot, especially since the sun was beginning to fall and most of the working class had arrived home already. But it didn’t really matter. It would’ve taken much longer to walk.

 

Jaehwan was banging around in the kitchen, and Taekwoon immediately knew that he was high upon seeing the jello that had recently been placed in the microwave for ‘25:23’ minutes, the older male sighing as he opened the door and stopped the time before they could break another device. Jaehwan scoffed but hardly seemed to care, occupied instead with spreading Taekwoon’s leftover mac-and-cheese on a piece of sourdough bread. “Woonie, I’m making dinner, wanna try some?” After a cringe from his roommate, Jaehwan dropped the subject, huffing something about the other being ungrateful for a home-cooked meal despite the fact that Taekwoon cooked ‘home-cooked meals’ that turned into leftovers, then into mold, weekly.

 

He wasn’t expecting anything unique when he opened the door, but maybe in the midst of the normal day he’d forgotten how abnormal Hakyeon was. What stood out immediately was that the curtains of the window were closed and the lights were off, and yet there was still a faint white glow just barely illuminating the room and the young man sitting on his bed. There was no phone screen, no device causing this light though… It was as if it was coming from Hakyeon himself. His silver hair glistened, his eyes twinkled as if the stars in the night sky were cast behind them. His mask, the one he would never take off while still in the smoky area of the house, was lying forgotten on the bedside table. And he smiled at Taekwoon, making his heart skip as if this were a sight beyond words rather than a man who had been living with him for nearly two weeks already.

 

“Hak… Hakyeon…?” He was uneasy, and he’d probably hit himself at how confused and almost scared he probably sounded if he was focused on anything other than how his technical roommate looked so impossibly beautiful in this moment. “Welcome back, Taekwoon-ah,” the other said cheerfully, as if nothing was off at all. Did he not even notice that he was sparkling?! Taekwoon quickly flicked on the light switch, which helped a bit. Now he could see that Hakyeon’s eyes were somehow a bright blue, the color blue that the sky should have been that morning, and he took a step backwards, forgetting that he closed the door behind him and bumping into it. “You’re… Hakyeon you look…” The other blinked before his smile faded and he gave a faint nod, cheeks flushing a little in what seemed like embarrassment. “They… They said not to let you see me but I thought if the lights were off... “ 

What the fuck was going on…?! Taekwoon wasn’t sure if he should be scared, awestricken, or determinedly pressing for answers, deciding on a probably unattractive combination of all three. “Who said that…? What’s going on..?!” Hakyeon flinched, and Taekwoon only hardly realized that he had raised his voice after the other wrapped his arms around his chest defensively. “The… the moon said that yesterday when I went out… He said that humans wouldn’t understand and to not let you see me, but I wasn’t… sure what he meant…” he trailed off as Taekwoon was running his eyes up and down his body. His heart was racing and he didn’t know why, Hakyeon’s skin was so luminescent, just barely too much so to be possible on any other human being. His blue eyes twinkled with light that was in no way cast by the crappy bulbs above him, not cast by anything in sight, and why were they blue when they were so definitely brown every time Taekwoon had seen him..? Taekwoon had passed him off as a daydreamer when he’d previously mentioned talking to the moon, but now he was wondering if this beautiful man was just batshit crazy, or even something more.

 

“Hakyeon, what the actual hell…” he breathed, finally sighing, distraught, and deciding to just sit on the end of the bed. “Have you even looked at yourself? You’re nearly glowing, your eyes are blue. There has to be something, some explanation… Are you wearing contacts? What’s….” His voice was cut off as his mouth was blocked suddenly. He thought for a second that Hakyeon had covered his mouth with his hand, and anger fluttered in his chest before he actually comprehended that the plushness against his lips weren’t a hand, but another pair of lips. Hakyeon’s lashes were long and softly pressed against his cheeks, his silver hair dusted around his face, and Taekwoon wasn’t sure why but he was letting his eyes fall shut and sighing into the unexpected kiss, anger and confusion melting away into a fluttering that sailed across every nerve in his body. Hakyeon’s lips were soft, his breath was cool, and Taekwoon wasn’t sure what he was doing when he gently grabbed the other’s shoulders and let him slowly descent to a laying position, leaning over him without breaking their lips for longer than a second to breathe. It was cold in his bedroom but his face was hot, his heart was pounding and he could feel Hakyeon’s beating as well. The sense didn’t return back to him until Hakyeon gently pushed him away, releasing quiet, soft gasps to try and catch back the air that Taekwoon was unintentionally stealing. Then everything settled in.

 

Embarrassed? Anxious? Angry? Confused? Extatic? All of these things…?! What was he feeling in this moment after Hakyeon had kissed him, after he’d fallen so willingly to even push the kiss further…?! He remembered Jaehwan going on about succubi and incubi in one of his drunken rants, something he’d found in some ‘How To Suit Your Halloween Costume’ article after deciding he wanted to try something sexy. Those blue eyes were hazy, and his skin was glowing. Taekwoon remembered the way he’d dove so willingly into those eyes and those lips…

 

“What the hell are you…?” he whispered, awed and horrified all in one. The spell was entirely broken then, Hakyeon sitting up from where he’d been splayed in the pillows and ruffled blankets, so vulnerable, so enticing. His hair was a bit messy in the back, and Taekwoon had a mind to fix it, having to hold one hand in his lap with the other to resist. It was almost scary how little self control he had in this moment, and he needed an answer, because this was enough to make him consider, despite how his mind refused to believe it, that Hakyeon wasn’t human.

 

He looked hurt, he looked scared, he looked out the window as if wondering if a fall from that height would kill him if he tried to run, seeming to decide against it. Taekwoon was still slightly leaning over him, not holding him down in any way but still being such a looming presence that Hakyeon probably felt trapped; He looked trapped, but that didn’t matter. Taekwoon wouldn’t let his questions fall unanswered anymore, not after something as crazy and possibly terrifying as this. If Hakyeon really was a demon or something…

 

“You won’t believe me though…” the other whispered shakily, his voice trembling as if the stress of the situation had him on the verge of tears. “I don’t want you to hate me, I care about you.” No guilt trips. No. Taekwoon repeated the two-letter word in his head as if convincing himself rather than making a statement. “Tell me anyway,” he replied a little too harshly, and Hakyeon bowed his head. “You… You know how the moon changes? How sometimes it’s fully in light and sometimes it’s fully dark? Right now it’s fully in light.” He was crazy, this confirmed it. Completely crazy. But before Taekwoon could kick him out of the house and regret it harshly in the morning, Hakyeon was speaking again. “I’m not human, Taekwoon.” There it was, the big ringer, the shock and panic that Taekwoon had always seen from movie characters and figured were overreactions. They weren’t. He could barely breathe, wanting to scramble away in fear but also being told by the logical part of his mind that Hakyeon easily could’ve killed him in his sleep if he wanted to and hadn’t yet. It didn’t make him feel much better. “Then what are you?” An unstable balance on the border of panicking, of screaming for his high-as-balls roommate to come kick Hakyeon out so that he wouldn’t feel guilty, to never speak to another stranger again.

 

“Let me explain, okay? Please?” He didn’t agree or disagree, sitting in a frozen silence, realizing that they were both defensively crossing their arms over their chests now. Two anxious people, or at least one, depending on what Hakyeon said in a few seconds. “Stars… they’re living beings. What I am doesn’t really have a name, but we’re born as stars.” Crazy…? But no, this whole situation was crazy, his eyes changing colors and the way Taekwoon still wanted to be absorbed by his body even after all of this was crazy. He listened attentively. “Most end up dying before they can get very far. Whether falling, what humans call shooting stars, or exploding into novas, they almost all die. Of course, most stars aren’t alive, they’re just gasses. But some… some have minds.” Crazy. Completely crazy.

 

“As stars, the moon prepares us to die soon. We sit up there and chatter until we’re gone, watching the earth from above. The star that survives is sent down to live in the human world for a lunar cycle, learning about humans, about the world that once worshipped the moon, the world that depends on it to continue functioning normally. That star was me.” Taekwoon slowly shook his head, taking in the information easily but barely believing any of it. It was just too crazy, countered any science he had ever heard. There was no way any of this was true, but then again, how else could Hakyeon always look so ethereal, talk to the sky. It even explained the skid marks all over his body when Taekwoon had found him, how it took him a few days to speak properly, how he couldn’t read in any language Taekwoon could find books in. “After a lunar cycle passes and the previous moon has died, the sky goes dark. Humans call it ‘new moon.’ The star on earth is brought up to replace the moon for a cycle, on and on and on.” Hakyeon curled up on the bed. “I’m supposed to be learning, exploring, but I didn’t want to be the moon. I didn’t like humans, I hated watching my friends dream on and on about someday being human for a month just to fall from the sky. I hated it all. But here I am.” A tear streaked down Hakyeon’s cheek. Taekwoon didn’t stop himself in time, reaching forward and wiping it away. His cheeks were warm. If this were a lie, Hakyeon fully believed it.

 

“I’m supposed to be learning about the world, but I was scared and I was angry. I refused to listen to the previous moon when he was teaching us what to do if we were chosen and I had no idea what to do. That was when you found me.” He caught himself crying, hiding his face under the blankets, trembling a little. “I’m going to be a horrible moon, I don’t know anything about tides, about religion. But I’ve felt so safe with you…” Taekwoon was frozen, a giant ice-block leaning over someone who claimed to be a star, the future moon. What the actual…

 

“It… it makes sense, if you want to kick me out. Humans don’t react well to what they don’t understand, that’s... that’s not your fault. I really should probably go anyway, b… because I need to learn things before I go back, I need to…” Hakyeon was sobbing, his body shaking with the force of his unstable breath, tears making his face glisten in a way that wasn’t nearly as ethereal as the glow that still radiated around his body, and despite how red and puffy his face was, despite how he was curled in on himself and his hair everywhere, Taekwoon thought he was even more beautiful, comfortably so, because crying like this made him look so much more human than ever before no matter how it wracked his heart.

 

This was why he was embracing Hakyeon, Hakyeon who was either crazy or not human, because Hakyeon was crying and Hakyeon had never done him any harm in being either of those things. He didn’t promise that he wouldn’t kick him out, because he didn’t feel like he was in reality deep enough right now to make that decision. Without words, he just held him, Hakyeon cold in his arms, tears wet on his neck as his sobs had them both shaking a little from the force.


	4. Understanding

It didn’t make sense in the morning either. He awoke to the sound of Jaehwan’s alarm clock blaring in the next room over, the insulation resembling tissue paper in the walls of their so-called home. Hakyeon was no longer glowing, which Taekwoon was thankful for in the very least. He’d almost considered it all a dream, but there would be no other reason for Hakyeon to be curled into his arms right now rather than sleeping on his pallet on the floor. 

His fingers grazed over a plush, tanned cheek. It was a little warm, soft but barely sticky from last night’s tears. Was Hakyeon just delusional? He didn’t believe that. Crazy wasn’t the right term either. No, by some manner of instinct, he knew that the other man hadn’t been lying to him. But how could he literally have a star in his arms right now, a star that looked and felt and acted, at least for the most part, human? He needed to know more, he needed to understand, because the thought of the world being more complicated than it seemed sent his heart racing with both excitement and anxiety.

But for now he felt comfortable like this, figuring that he probably shouldn’t. He didn’t know Hakyeon that well, at least in theory despite feeling like he knew him better than he knew even his best friend. ‘Not knowing him that well’ though, by social standards, meant that he shouldn’t be holding him while he slept. But Taekwoon didn’t let go anyway, because Hakyeon was warm and soft and almost femininely small and social standards could sputter out and die for all he cared.

The sun was long up by the time Hakyeon shifted, a tiny groan being exhaled from between barely parted lips as his eyes squeezed closed, then relaxed again as he almost immediately fell back asleep. Around ten minutes later, they were opening, blinking weakly to adjust to the light of the room. He coughed a little, that cough turning into a gag, and Taekwoon exchanged his own comfort for grabbing the star-decorated mask off the bedside table and helping a delirious Hakyeon put it on. “Taekwoon-ah…” Hakyeon’s voice was rough and scratchy, and Taekwoon now understood why he had wanted the mask. People with weak throats and lungs wouldn’t do well with the constant bombardment of smoke and menthol, and if Hakyeon really were newly human then that would explain his lack of immunity to those things. “Hm?” he replied, the other stiff in his arms when he’d just minutes ago been so relaxed. “Do you remember? Last night?”

A trickle of tension leaked into the room. Taekwoon fought to ignore it. The glow, those eyes, those lips when they were pressing against his and how he couldn’t help but indulge in their warmth…. He quickly shook his head, forcing himself back to reality, something that he rarely did intentionally. “I do, but I don’t want to kick you out over it. I do expect you to explain more though.” Hakyeon was trying not to smile, he really was, but the corners of his lips were tugging anyway and he curled his arms around Taekwoon’s stomach tighter. “Okay,” he whispered gently. “Now?”

“Soon,” Taekwoon responded with no real urgency, though he did want to know what was going on. “Let’s go to a cafe. It’s already half past one.” 

“Time?” Hakyeon’s confused face resembled a puppy somehow, and the taller of the two chuckled a little despite how honest the question was. ‘Half past one’ wouldn’t make much sense to someone who couldn’t read an analog clock. “One-thirty. Mid-day. Sun half over?” The other’s cheeks puffed a bit as it was clear that Taekwoon was teasing him, but the point was across. “Okay, let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, they were walking down the cracked sidewalk exiting the apartment. Taekwoon’s clothes hung loosely over Hakyeon’s frame, a white-tee shirt, a flowy blue jacket, a pair of black jeans that were too tight for their original owner, rolled up a bit at the ankles to account for the minor difference in height. Hakyeon’s hair was attracting attention, and Taekwoon realized that he hadn’t been outside with Hakyeon during the day since the time he’d invited him to live with him. That had been almost two weeks ago, and it felt strange how slow the time had passed. It felt like he’d known Hakyeon for months now, but he figured that was how it worked.

A group of girls stopped wide-eyed on the other side of the street, one whipping out her phone and taking a picture of them as they walked. Taekwoon normally would’ve felt completely uncomfortable with something like this, but the implications of what they were thinking was amusing. “They’re taking pictures of you,” he muttered to Hakyeon. “They think you’re an idol.” The other tilted his head, non-discreetly glancing over to stare at the girls, who flushed and ran off, hiding their faces. “An idol? Like worship?” Taekwoon quickly shook his head. “Like a celebrity, someone who’s famous.” Hakyeon bowed his head, eyebrows creasing. “They’re wrong,” he mumbled, hurrying in his steps, minding to keep his head down when anyone they passed stared for too long.

The cafe was nearly empty, being the run-down place that it was, but the old, crumbling atmosphere was cozy and Taekwoon knew a few people that worked there from high school. A discount for association was a discount that he wouldn’t pass up, and he hadn’t gone to any other coffee shop in years. A man named Wonshik was currently at the register, tapping away mindlessly on his cellphone, too zoned in to have registered the chime of the door’s bells when they’d walked in. Taekwoon remembered some middle aged man snapping at him for always being on his phone, but it seemed like he still hadn’t learned much. 

“Earth to Wonshik,” Taekwoon said softly, poking at the bell that rested on the counter. The barista nearly flew out of his skin, phone skidding out of his hand but luckily landing on the nearby counter rather than the far-by tile floors. “Taekwoon, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he gasped, wiping non-existent sweat from his forehead. “Doesn’t Mr. Lim pay you too much to be playing on your phone?” Taekwoon was rarely this confrontational, according to Jaehwan. He was always the super quiet kid who sat in his room and read books when he wasn’t working. But Jaehwan never took much interest in his life, so he wouldn’t see that Taekwoon did have some connections; They were just a bit too normal to invite out to his roommates various parties and gatherings, more acquaintances than friends for sure.

“He pays me enough to hang around here on slow days like this. Who’s your friend?” Hakyeon was hovering a foot or so behind Taekwoon, seeming determined to not really be seen, though he stepped a bit closer once it was confirmed that his attempt was unsuccessful. “His name is Hakyeon,” Taekwoon stated calmly, wanting to pull the other a bit closer for the sake of conversation but not needing Wonshik to think they were dating like Jaehwan still did. “It’s nice to meet you, Hakyeon,” Wonshik grinned, before glancing back down at his phone, checking a text that had popped up from Hongbin, another familiar name to Taekwoon. It seemed the employees kept close around here. “Anyway, I’ll start your usual latte in a sec, but what does Hakyeon want?”

Taekwoon had the mind to tell Hakyeon to order for himself, but then he realized both that that would be far too parent-like for his tastes and that Hakyeon had almost surely never had coffee or anything that could be bought at a coffee shop. He decided to assume that Hakyeon wouldn’t like something bitter like most first-time coffee drinkers didn’t, so he hummed out, “A frappe, as sweet as you can make it without giving him a migraine.” At Wonshik’s curious glance, Taekwoon quickly continued, “He’s shy.” It would need to be explained why he did all the talking for a grown man, a reason that wasn’t what everyone assumed. He and Hakyeon weren’t dating. Suddenly the kiss from the night before popped back into his mind and he quickly shoved it out. They weren’t dating, they wouldn’t ever be. Not if Hakyeon was being serious and he really was only temporarily human. He’d figure that out in a few minutes.

Wonshik got to work on their orders and Taekwoon led Hakyeon to the table that he always frequented, a two seater by the floor-to-ceiling window that was always painted with various themes and advertisements. Hakyeon hugged the sides of Taekwoon’s jacket closer to his body, a subtle thing that Taekwoon wondered why he noticed. “So… What do you want me to explain..?” Hakyeon asked rather cautiously, his voice softening and his smile twitching in the corner. The literature student bowed his head, rubbing the back of his neck and probably messing up his hairline before glancing back up warily. “Everything. You can’t just tell me that you’re a star or something and not explain.” A soft hum of understanding before Hakyeon was sighing, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before holding it close to him as if cradling it.

“I don’t think… humans are capable of comprehending really what I am. Not completely. I’m alive, but I’m not, I can think but it’s different than how humans think.” Taekwoon found himself even more confused, but that seemed to be implied by his face and Hakyeon’s pleading glance hushed him to listen a bit more before arguing about the sensibility of all of this. “Like I said last night, I’m a star, or at least I was. Some stars can think, can live like me. That thought is brought upon by humans, if you can believe that. Ever since humans began to stare up at the night sky and think that stars and other astral bodies were more, we began to develop these minds. Humans gave us identity, and in return our job is to shine brightly for them. The moon works harder, dealing with tides, with pleasing religions and rituals.” It didn’t make sense, but it was something, at least solid enough that he could comprehend the words that Hakyeon was speaking. That was somewhat of an improvement, though there was still so much that he wasn’t sure would ever be clear about this.

“But you said that stars… turn into the moon?” Hakyeon’s head rocked back and forth, a signified ‘no,’ though it was such a graceful and delicate motion that the slip of his head from side to side was hypnotizing in some manner. Taekwoon glanced down at the table to keep himself focused on what was being said. “Not ‘turn into.’ It’s like this. Humans have a single conscience that resides in one body that can’t leave that body until death. It’s what you call a soul. Some people have multiple in one body, leading to disorders and things, and some people have none, leading to dreamless comas or, much more commonly, death.” Once more, reasonable. The soul was the consciousness, and Taekwoon tried to shove out anything he’d learned in high school about psychology and the fact that things like this were created by the brain. 

“Our souls are more fluid though, having been unintentionally created by humans’ wishes and perceptions. As a star I was just that, a star. A bunch of plasma that formed light, and though I could interact with others and comprehend what was around me, I was still just that physically. Now, physically, I’m human. Later, physically, my soul will be connected to the moon. But I will always be me. Do you understand now? Just a little?” Taekwoon nodded, though it was a mediocre understanding at best. “So like a ghost possessing something I guess…?” he asked. Hakyeon shrugged. “Something like that, if it helps to think of it that way, though I can’t decide on my own what I ‘possess.’ I was the last conscious star by the time the fully shadowed moon hit, so I became human, and when the fully shadowed moon comes around again, I’ll become the moon for a full lunar cycle.” A pause breathed between them, and interrupting that pause was Wonshik, walking over far too ruggedly in comparison to the fluidness of the topic they were discussing, of the person Taekwoon was talking with. “One latte, one sugar-loaded frappe. Come back soon, Taekwoon, you too Hakyeon.” Taekwoon nodded his thanks to the barista, glancing back to see Hakyeon with those same glistening, almost aching eyes, staring after Wonshik.

“What?” Taekwoon figured his tone was too harsh and cursed himself, trying to learn to manage his voice. Hakyeon didn’t seem to notice though, eyes softening into something far heavier than an ache, a dull sorrow that seemed to echo within his beauty. Taekwoon had always found things filled with raw emotion to be the most beautiful. Maybe that was why he was so stuck on Hakyeon after all that he’d seen and been told. Maybe that was why he hadn’t run off with his tail between his legs like he usually did when faced with a situation that required too much realistic thought, too much interaction. “I was told by the present moon that many people make wishes to the night sky.” That statement didn’t explain at all why Hakyeon had looked at Wonshik like he’d betrayed him or something by telling him to come back sometime, but Taekwoon shrugged, not being one to be easily irritated by things like random epiphanies and askew connections in conversation. As the most quirky human he’d ever known to live, it wasn’t like he could debate being much different. “I guess. Wishing on shooting stars, on meteor showers. People like things like that, finding rarities to put luck on.” There was another pause, Taekwoon sipping at his latte, Hakyeon not touching his drink yet as something seemed to be weighing much more heavily on him than thirst. “There’s no luck in death, Taekwoon-ah,” he breathed, his voice so light that it fluttered under the pressure of the air vent above their table, his voice sounding scratchy in a way that reminded Taekwoon’s knotting stomach of how it felt the night before when he’d cried.

“In death…?” Hakyeon nodded, crossing his arms over the table and resting his chin on his forearms. “Shooting stars are falling, dying. Even the ones that don’t fall explode and fizzle out. That was part of why I never liked humans before. I’d never considered that they just didn’t understand what was happening above them. I always thought they were intentionally ignorant to the fact that they were celebrating events like star showers and wishing happily on the death of a conscious being. After all, the universe is so much prettier when you don’t see stars as dying. I always… I always just figured that humans were selfish because of that. But he asked me to come back despite how I was taught that human customs determine that not speaking is rude. I didn’t say anything to him, but he still smiled towards me. It’s… It just reminded me of how wrong I was, of how much I still have to learn.” Another sip of latte; Taekwoon pushed Hakyeon’s cup closer to him, the other wrapping thin, delicate and tanned fingers around the drink that resembled the same caramel tone of his skin. Taekwoon swallowed down the literary comparison of Hakyeon being just as sweet as the drink would be; This conversation, this being in front of him, was so much more complicated than appearances and humanizing daydreams.

But back to the point of their discussion. “So… to get this straight… You’re a star, currently living on earth to learn about customs and things, which you haven’t been doing, in preparation to become the moon.” Hakyeon swallowed and the tendons in his hands pressed out a bit as his fingers tightened around his cup. He seemed to realize how insane it would sound to someone who’d been taught through years of education and common sense that none of this was possible. “Yes,” he said anyway, voice trembling a bit at the end of the single syllable, eyes cast down determinedly to avoid a gaze that he probably figured would be scrutinizing, annoyed, unbelieving. Taekwoon sighed, swallowing down the tang of coffee still lingering in his mouth, deciding to take another quick sip to mask the already forming aftertaste in something a bit more appealing. “Okay,” he finally said, bluntly and clearly, almost feeling defensive when Hakyeon’s head shot up with wide, still unnaturally sparkling dark eyes pouring over with shock. “Okay?” the star asked, confirming that he heard the other correctly. “Yes, okay. How could I not believe you after last night? But moving onto things more important than what you are…”

More important than what Hakyeon was. Taekwoon almost regretted saying that, it sounded insensitive, rude, like Hakyeon didn’t matter, like Hakyeon’s existence wasn’t the anomaly that it was. But Hakyeon was smiling again, the weight in his eyes and on his previously sunken shoulders lifting and softening a visible amount as he listened determinedly for what would come next. “More importantly… You’re supposed to be learning about the world, right? But you’ve just been sitting in my room.” And the weight was back, slamming down as if Taekwoon had lifted the bag of boulders from Hakyeon’s shoulders just to drop it on him once more. “Right,’ Hakyeon softly admitted, his lips playing with the straw of the icy drink though he didn’t actually sip it. Taekwoon wondered if Hakyeon knew how to use a straw, wondered if he’d have to teach him, wondered how awkward yet unintentionally sensual that might be, remembered those soft lips against his, that draw to Hakyeon, that warmth, stared at those lips for a moment too short, then realized that he was completely deviating from things much more time-significant when he could think of Hakyeon’s lips another time when they weren’t mid-conversation about such crucial things.

“I haven’t been doing what I should,” Hakyeon spoke gently, pulling his mouth away from the straw after probably realizing that the liquid wouldn’t shoot up the straw automatically, that whatever Taekwoon was doing to make that happen wasn’t something he could figure out so easily. “And I need to start soon. Religions, rituals, practices, tides. I need to know so much, but I don’t understand any of it, I don’t even know where to start.” Taekwoon nodded. He could help with that, or at least he figured he could. He didn’t know how detailed the information had to be, and from what he was hearing, neither did Hakyeon. “I can help with that,” he impulsively promised. “But I have another question. You said you become the moon for a cycle. By that logic, you’ll be replaced by another star afterwards. So where do you go after you’re finished being the moon?” The reply was spoken so softly, so light as if it was a feather floating briskly and delicately through the air between them if it weren’t for the actual words, the actual meaning behind what Hakyeon had said so gently and inevitably. 

“After that, I, as a conscious, will die.”


	5. Denial

He’ll die. Hakyeon will die. Taekwoon stared across the table without response in a way that would probably be considered inconsiderate if Hakyeon were considering his actions at all, instead having zoned out to watch the traffic light outside swipe from green to yellow, then to red. He’d die. Taekwoon was the last person to request sympathy from when it came to death. He was a literature major, a dreamer, the type of person who found beauty in the deepest and darkest things of the world, issues that humans would never be able to fully cease or control, like love or like death, like time or like the tides that were controlled by the moon that Hakyeon would one day be. He was someone who perceived the inability to comprehend something to mean that that something was beautifully complicated. He felt his heartbeat tremble when Hakyeon had spoken those condemning words, but the emotion was blocked by a wall of apathy that would probably crumble when he least expected it. It would hit later, the force of that fact. Hakyeon would die, Hakyeon would die, Hakyeon would die. He would surely feel it later, but for now, he slowly released his held breath, staring at the drink that he no longer had the appetite for.

 

Hakyeon’s eyes restored clarity when a raindrop splattered against the window, inches from his nose. He watched it run down for a moment, eyes darting up to show interest in another, then another, before there were too many droplets to focus on individually and he was turning back to Taekwoon slowly, drawing a finger down the condensation on his untouched coffee. The whipped cream was melting into the drink, mixing in the middle in a cloudy whisp, and Hakyeon seemed to be far more interested in stirring the two together with his straw than in continuing this conversation. Now the rain was falling rather stably, Taekwoon breathing just one more time before pushing his chair back. “You can’t read right?” Hakyeon didn’t look up, nodding slowly as if he were hypnotized by the plastic coffee cup in front of him. Taekwoon made sure the legs of his chair scraped more against the wooden floors as he stood, as if the noise would draw Hakyeon out of his trance more than the sight of the other making preparations to leave. It worked well enough, and the star was standing as well, lifting his drink in his hands and holding it close to his chest.

 

“Most of what you’ll need to learn is found in books and things. You may have to watch online videos or something if you can’t understand those. I’d read to you but…” He swallowed as the words fell short just in time to not yet make him sound like an asshole. But I’m busy. But I don’t want to. He repeated it in his head. ‘Hakyeon will die. He doesn’t have much time left now.’ It still sounded fake, foreign, but he forced himself to listen to it. “I’ll read to you if you find a book that’ll help you.” Those eyes lighting up shouldn’t have made his heart ache, but he wouldn’t lie and say that they didn’t. Instead he turned and led Hakyeon out, Wonshik too distracted with his phone to wave them goodbye, the two stopping after the cafe door closed with a chime when they remembered that it was raining, raining rather hard now. Taekwoon blinked as a droplet landed right under his eye, slipping down his cheekbone like a tear. He loved rain, the way it fell in waves that rippled in the air almost magically, how it cooled the world and cleansed people of their artificial beauty. Hakyeon seemed entranced as well, the two watching the water fall in the same trance as if their minds were connected to each other and disconnected from the rest of the world. And suddenly Hakyeon’s voice was echoing in Taekwoon’s consciousness, so beautiful and soft.

 

“Why are humans afraid of the rain?” Taekwoon didn’t really have to think about this question in comparison to how often he thought back to Hakyeon’s previous curiosities when he laid in bed at night. This one he had already considered on his own. “It’s dangerous to drive in and ruins your appearance. You can get sick if you stay out in it for too long and it leaves you freezing and soaked.” Taekwoon loved the rain. “Bugs come out after because of the humidity…” The rain that reminded him somewhat of himself, of Hakyeon, of no one else he’d ever fully gotten to know. “...and if you leave things outside, or leave your windows open, it ruins papers and electronics, it ruins a lot of things.”

 

“But it’s pretty,” Hakyeon defended, his hand reaching out past the miniscule cover of the tiny awning. The droplets pattered onto his skin, slipping down his arm and dripping from his fingertips, greeting him then quickly returning to their interrupted destination. He pulled it back, letting it fall limply to his side. Taekwoon breathed, appreciating the humid air rushing through his nostrils, even if that same air could foreseeably bring a cold. “It’s inefficient. It doesn’t work with people’s plans. That inconvenience is enough for people to dislike it.” Hakyeon’s eyes cast down, and he seemed to understand suddenly the same thing that Taekwoon decided months before. The rain was relatable, and suddenly he no longer wanted to talk about it. When Hakyeon walked out, Taekwoon followed behind, his reflex to hurry being ignored by the other who walked slowly, observing the world around. No people were out anymore, and the lights of the city blurred behind the curtains of water. Taekwoon eventually took his arm to guide him into walking faster, the two crossing the street and hurrying, whether intending to or not, to a building a little over a block away. The library in town was large and modernized, the doors sliding open to allow their newly soaked forms passage. A woman behind the desk immediately squinted at them accusingly, as if blaming them for the water damage and the mopping she’d have to do later, but Taekwoon ignored her and led a once again distracted Hakyeon further to disappear together between the shelves.

 

“There are so many,” Hakyeon gasped in awe as his eye flickered from book to book on an eye-level shelf, Taekwoon leading him too fast for him to properly examine the many sizes and colors, much to his dismay. The taller male quickly shushed him, muttering scoldingly, “You have to whisper here. This is a library, where people come to read. Talking loudly is rude.” Hakyeon only seemed to find more questions piling up based on this explanation, but the way his lip jutted out and eyes fell to stare at the boring floor instead of the mass of books surrounding indicated that he was holding back the desire to ask anything else.

 

Taekwoon sighed softly before tasking himself with looking for something that suited the rather broad topics Hakyeon had mentioned. Religion, tides, culture. He didn’t understand why libraries tended to organize books based off of author’s names rather than something more efficient, though he figured it was reasonably much easier to do it that way than to try and find one subject to describe a book by and shelf it by that topic, hoping that others thought of the same generalization when searching for it. He wandered with Hakyeon waltzing halfheartedly behind for a few minutes before finding an aisle dedicated to anthropology and nustling into it. This was easier, books titled things like ‘Zeus and Hera, a Guide to Greek Mythology’ and ‘Cultural Shifts of Modern Japan.’ What he realised a little too slowly though, he noticed, was that most books wouldn’t just say ‘there’s moon stuff in here’ on the title. He’d probably have to do his own research before even beginning to find something that would benefit Hakyeon any, since he doubted the other, who was now tilting his head almost entirely horizontally to try failingly to understand the words on a book’s spine, would be able to work a computer. The task of educating him suddenly seemed like a daunting task, and if Hakyeon was being honest (he had no reason to lie) then they had so little time… 

 

He paused on that thought, the simple stress of menial tasks fading away as he stared at the other male in the aisle with him, maybe a foot away now with a book in hand, tilting it in all directions as if not realizing quite yet that he could open it. Hakyeon’s silver hair seemed almost bleach blond in the library’s yellowish lighting, his skin tinting just slightly towards a mustard color that almost helped Taekwoon feel more comfortable to be around him because it made him seem less perfect like he almost always did. Taekwoon didn’t have the lunar calendar memorized, but he knew from some timeless portion of elementary school that each cycle lasted about a month. If the full moon was last night, then Hakyeon would probably have around fifteen days, possibly less and preferably more, until he’d…

 

Until he’d become the moon. It was an obscure thought, one that Taekwoon’s mind wasn’t comfortable processing as a realistic one, instead translating back to something that it could process. ‘After that, I, as a conscious, will die.’ Hakyeon’s dull tone echoed so fiercely through his mind that it bounced off the walls of his skull, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from this person who he was beginning to feel so unexplainably attached to. This person whom he had found injured and unconscious in an alley, this person whom he’d invited into his home against all reason and consideration of safety, this person who had kissed him last night in the soft light of his own radiance, Taekwoon hovering over his pliable form with all intentions to ravish it had Hakyeon not needed to take long enough of a breath for him to snap out of the trance. For how little time they had actually spent together, they had done so much more than Taekwoon had ever done with anyone else, as if they’d taken a normal friendship-turned-maybe-more and compressed it into the span of two weeks. It was exhausting to consider, overwhelming in the slightest, and Taekwoon swallowed a lump forming in his throat as he remembered once more that Hakyeon was going to die soon. There it was, the pain he had anticipated upon considering those words. He swallowed it down like it was tangible.

 

“We need to go back to the apartment, but once I figure out exactly what we’re looking for, this is where we’ll need to be to find that information you said you needed.” He didn’t know why Hakyeon needed it, and now that he considered it contextually, Hakyeon probably didn’t know why either. It may have been an instinctive sort of thing, like how certain animals knew where to find water or like how Taekwoon knew not to draw close to people. A safety mechanism, something the body naturally came with to assist in caring for a necessity. He shook his head, sending off these thoughts like projectiles into the depths of his mind, the abyss that he needed to eventually learn how to not randomly dip into like he always did. Hakyeon had nodded at some point during his disappearance from reality, and Taekwoon made his way out of the library, past sliding doors, out into the rain, Hakyeon tagging along on his heels, the two unintentionally hurrying through the downpour towards the tiny, crumbling apartment buildings nearby.

 

The next few days began in a pattern like this. They’d wake up early, earlier than comfortable, and immediately dress to head towards the coffee shop. There they would actually wake up, Taekwoon finally getting past the Jaehwan whistling in his head and telling an almost cutely oblivious Hakyeon he had to suck on the straw for the coffee to come out. While sipping down probably unhealthy amounts of caffeine, Taekwoon would search for specific book titles. He learned after the first day to have a list prepared, as the library wasn’t necessarily vast and often times didn’t have what they were looking for. After they found what they could, they checked out the books and headed to a place where it was more socially acceptable to talk, be it a low-class restaurant (because Taekwoon was poor and eating out was a treat that he expended too often) or his bedroom floor.

 

There he would shift through the books, numbly and absentmindedly answering Hakyeon’s never-ending flow of questions (it was hard to imagine now that he one rarely spoke) as he searched for specifics. Once he found something of use, or at least something that he naively figured would be of use to the moon if the moon had a mind (which it apparently did), he’d read it out to Hakyeon, explaining details once he himself understood them. It was mostly a hodgepodge of information, random facts and did-you-knows that one might find when scrolling through social media at hours deep into the night. He was skeptical that what they were doing would even help, figuring they’d have to make flashcards or use learning tools or, Lord forbid, actually deeply study this stuff. But Hakyeon remembered it all instantly upon hearing it, absorbing the information like a shrivelled sponge in a bathtub, and it only managed to remind Taekwoon once more that Hakyeon wasn’t human.

 

Like this, a full week passed since Hakyeon had been glowing, a full week that went by far too quickly with proper scheduling never being something that either of the two were used to. Taekwoon watched the days roll by with an increasing sense of discomfort that surely Hakyeon should’ve felt as well. It was the dawn of the eighteenth day in April, an overcast Tuesday morning, when that sense grew strong enough for him to bring it to the surface.

 

“It’s almost time,” he said rather randomly, rather bluntly, maybe too much so because Hakyeon’s head shot up from where it was stationed resting on his hand, his focus shattered from the thoughts he had been delved in. The surprise in his eyes upon something other than a fact or quote being spoken faded into something deeper, something heavier, as if absorbing the weighing atmosphere of time’s pressure on them. As they spent their time doing something as simple as reading and discussing what was said, they drew much closer together. “Yeah,” Hakyeon simply replied, and Taekwoon wasn’t sure if he had missed that airy, dismissive tone or if he regretted bringing it back out; Maybe both. ‘Yeah’ wouldn’t cut it though, and suddenly his mind was in a place much deeper than studying could sate. “Are you ready?” The way Hakyeon’s throat bobbed slightly when he swallowed, the way Taekwoon could feel the same rock in his throat that he couldn’t quite get down either. Hakyeon wasn’t ready. He probably wouldn’t ever be.

“Let’s take a break…” Taekwoon started, hands sliding to the edges of the book to close it before Hakyeon shoved his hand in between the pages to stop it from shutting. “Let’s not,” he quickly said, nibbling on his bottom lip, eyes flickering back and forth and all around and everywhere besides Taekwoon in a desperation for distraction. Taekwoon released a weary breath, slowly and all too gently moving Hakyeon’s hand from the book with his own before shutting it with a soft thud. He placed it in the bag on the floor by his chair, and Hakyeon watched it go, eyes fading once more into that lost place they both seemed to easily recede into. Taekwoon sat back up and reached out, taking the semi-tanned hand that was still reached across the table into his own two, holding it softly in a loose embrace. “You can’t hide from it forever. We’ve been studying for almost a week now, let’s take a break.” Because Taekwoon was somehow already running out of information that Hakyeon didn’t already know. Because Taekwoon had called into work twice now to spend this time together and his boss was getting irritated. Because he didn’t want Hakyeon’s more prevalent memories of Earth being of Taekwoon reading to him in a half-yell over the booming bass of Jaehwan’s music. But the other seemed uncaring, even aggressively defensive.

 

“I need to know this, I need to…”

“Hakyeon, you already know everything that you said you needed to. Maybe it took other stars longer but that was because they didn’t have help. You’re done, you’ve done what you had to do.” He didn’t seem to agree though, arms lifting to tighten around his body in a defensive manner, as if Taekwoon were burdening him with the intentions of letting him rest, as if he were attacking him. “I’m not ready yet,” he said loudly, far short of a yell but filled with the type of raw emotion that Taekwoon didn’t find to be beautiful, the kind that Taekwoon found to be heartbreaking. Hakyeon was afraid, and he didn’t realize that his lack of preparation wasn’t because he didn’t have the knowledge to move on, but because he was emotionally attached to the world he was in. He was ready, physically, Taekwoon knew that and he was human. Hakyeon probably knew somewhere deep down too, just refusing to accept it, to admit it. Just a week left…

 

“You are ready though, Hakyeon, and ready or not you can’t stop this.” It was like talking to a child, trying to explain the concept of an unchangeable ‘no’ to someone too young to understand that not all things could be bargained with. He felt his chest jolt when a tear streaked down the other man’s cheek, quick and unexpected as a shooting star, hovering on his chin as if considering whether to drop. “Why can’t I…?! I don’t WANT to be the moon, Taekwoon, I don’t want to die!” And oh how it hit now, when Taekwoon least expected it. That realization that never really dawned on him before, no matter how many times he had said it over and over to himself. He felt his own tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision a bit. He wiped them away with his hand so that he wouldn’t blink and send them down his face.

 

“I don’t want you to die either…” His voice cracked like a sidewalk in an earthquake, high and squeaky and vulnerable and injured. The star trembled, holding himself tighter, knees pulled to his chest now so he was fully curled up in the corner between the bed and the wall. “I don’t want you to leave and I don’t want you to… I don’t want you to…” he couldn’t say it again, now that it was fully out there, now that it was real. While Hakyeon was so stiff that he was shivering, Taekwoon was loose, hands limp in his lap, head bowed towards his chest. “But if there was anything that could be done about that, wouldn’t you know…? Wouldn’t the previous moon have told you like he told you everything else…?” Hakyeon was frozen, his eyes wide like a cornered animal’s and sparkling beautifully under the gloss of his tears. It took him nearly a minute to answer, his voice soft as if it had been sandpapered smooth, quiet and airy once more. “...Would he have…?”


	6. Half Full, Half Empty

This was how they found themselves tense in a hurried walk towards the park, hands occasionally brushing as they whisked past each other. It was a bit chilly, the rain that had been plaguing the city leaving a damp overcasting residue that probably would’ve felt sticky if it were hot. Taekwoon had to grab Hakyeon’s arm multiple times, slowing him down, because his breathing was getting hurried and the tension in his eyes, in his hands that fisted at his sides, in the fear he could practically see racing through his being, was starting to make him anxious as well. The sun was low, practically set but not quite, a few remaining brushstrokes of purple and blue mixed into the sky like fading bruises low on the skyline.   
   
The park wasn’t empty as it had been the night before, the previously barren parking lot still holding some lingering cars of parents that couldn’t pull their children from the playscape or lovers walking the trails. Their hurry was obscure in comparison to the slow lull of the others they whisked passed, and now their hands were linked tightly, Taekwoon not quite sure who initiated the contact but assuming that it was Hakyeon, who was squeezing his hand to the point where it would be painful if Taekwoon wasn’t currently somewhat numb. The discussion of Hakyeon’s foreboding future had exhausted him, and had it not have been for the slightest of chances that they could keep him alive, he would be in bed trying to sleep off the suffocating depth of his thoughts.   
   
The moon was out, concealed somewhat by the murky, diluted clouds that were so consistent across the sky that there was no visible end to them. Taekwoon could see that it was a little more than half full, a little less than half empty. The moon itself was a visible timer, and he realized this with a jolt of his heart that he shoved down before it came out as a choked sob. He would hold himself together, he absolutely had to, especially because this trip may reward them with a way to fix things, with a way to change the cycle that Hakyeon was destined to follow, with an alternate path. He wondered if it was desperation fueling this determined assumption that everything would be alright, or reality. Realistically… Taekwoon couldn’t honestly look into the future and picture the moon just explaining to Hakyeon, ‘Here’s how you can decline from being what you were made to be.’ He couldn’t picture there being some alternate way out, because surely Hakyeon wasn’t the first star that didn’t want to become the moon, that looked at humans with naive eyes filled green with envy, and yet there was no proof that any other star had managed to avoid their duty.   
   
But Taekwoon wasn’t a realist, at least he tried his damnedest not to be, because the world was an awful place for people without power and he loved to disappear into a place in his mind where he could search for a purpose freely, where he could change the weather to his accord and be free from the constraints of money and where he could simply tell the universe to free Hakyeon from his shackles and it would be so. When he came back to reality to find that he was simply one in eight billion, a single human in countless that was going towards a profession without promised profit, one without many talents or useful skills, just a human with no hope of becoming more with so many other humans who had planned so much harder and had been given a better draw, he always hated the powerlessness of it all. And all he could hope was that, if Hakyeon were telling the truth and the consciousness of stars was dawned from mankind’s prayers and faith, then maybe his own prayers and faith could change things as well.   
   
As they hurried deeper into the park, where the towering streetlights were becoming less common and the murky, disrupted moonlight reflecting slightly off of Hakyeon’s silver hair was the most helpful nearby light, Taekwoon found that he was squeezing the other’s hand too now. The chill of Hakyeon’s skin in comparison to his own, the softness of it. He was real, he was so real in this moment, and he would be taken away so quickly if they couldn’t figure out how to stop his change and soon. He would become the moon… How would that happen? Would he fade out? Would he just… disappear? Did he know how it would happen, or was that another thing that had been kept from him in the many secrets locked away concerning his own destiny?   
   
He didn’t know when he started caring, when Hakyeon transitioned from a beautiful but downright weird stranger to someone that Taekwoon would give anything to keep from ascending to inevitable, unwanted death. That was all he saw in it anyway, being the moon. He’d be a guardian for around a month. Then he’d die. But Hakyeon didn’t want to, he wanted to live, he wanted to explore this world and Hakyeon wanted to explore him as a person and there was so much left to do that it couldn’t end so soon. With this notion, he prayed to every being he could think of, pouring his heart into the words that he mouthed silently, wishing on the sky itself since Hakyeon had rebuked wishing on stars. As they approached the clearing that they’d gone to before, the grass a little taller, a little more pigmented, Taekwoon made his final request to the current moon itself. ‘Please, give him a chance to live,’ Taekwoon begged. ‘He’s new to this world, he hasn’t seen anything yet.’ He found himself growing more and more desperate, sending every ounce of the passion he felt to his eyes that stared up at the glowing orb as if it would feel sympathy towards him once they finally reached the center of the clearing. ‘And I can’t for the life of me understand why, but I can’t let him go. I can’t. So please, please give us an option, something…’   
   
“Taekwoon…” It was less than a whisper, more a breath, that airy release of words that Hakyeon set free as his pacing slowed to a stop, his chin tilted upwards as he stared up at the moon above. The sky was so big, such a grandiose thing compared to their small forms, so overwhelming and powerful. Surely the current moon would be able to tell them something helpful. And realistic or not, Taekwoon was determined to believe this. He’d poured too much of his heart out for it not to have done anything at all. Hakyeon’s hand tightened around his, fingers curling deeper into the spaces between his knuckles, and he did the same until they were bonded, unable to release if they tried. Neither sat, neither relaxed. Standing side by side in this clearing, staring up at the aging sky, Hakyeon parted his trembling lips to speak.   
   
No sound came out. Taekwoon remembered the first time that he’d seen Hakyeon speak to the moon it had been the same, just him staring at it intently, taking in what it told him. Taekwoon decided that he would do the same, that two pairs of eyes were better than one and two bursting determinations would be too much for nothing. He gazed up at the orb, a little over half full, a little less than half empty, and continued his plead through raw emotion, no words capable of expressing how desperately he hoped that something could be done. As much as it was about Hakyeon, it wasn’t just for Hakyeon. Hakyeon was the first person who Taekwoon felt like he could understand, the first person he figured could understand him. Hakyeon was the first to have taken his hand as if he were someone worth touching rather than that one person who sat distant in the corner. Hakyeon was the first person who didn’t see him as Jaehwan’s silent roommate, as that quiet worker, as the person who would be prettier if he just smiled. Hakyeon was the first person who looked into his eyes with those overflowing chocolate irises and saw the depths of Taekwoon’s soul, the ocean in comparison to other people’s ponds or puddles, who could comprehend what was behind his flat face and dull, quiet voice. As much as the plead was for Hakyeon to be happy, to be free, it wasn’t entirely selfless. Taekwoon couldn’t bear to lose this person, this person who understood and accepted him immediately despite the fact that Taekwoon didn’t automatically understand and accept Hakyeon in return.   
   
It was silent for minutes, long, heavy minutes that slid by like they were stumbling through tar, Taekwoon too afraid to glance at Hakyeon’s expressions, keeping his eyes fully fixed onto the moon as if the strength of his desperation, determination, as if the force of his desire to keep Hakyeon alive was a super-power that he could harness to physically assist them. It wasn’t, realistically it wasn’t and never would be. But in his heart, or whatever part of his brain was considered the emotional processing section, everything would be okay because it had to be.  
   
He didn’t peel his eyes from the dim moon until Hakyeon’s hand trembled for the second time. The first time it went almost unnoticed, Taekwoon too transfixed with his thoughts and his self-assigned task. The second time was more obvious, a quick, unintentional and probably reflexive jerk before the star was collapsing to his knees. Taekwoon fell with him, grabbing his shoulders to stable him because Hakyeon looked like he was about to faint, his face white as snow and his throat visibly bobbing. Taekwoon found himself breathless with anticipation as he couldn’t read from Hakyeon’s expression how the conversation had gone. His heart dropped into his gut and sank into the murky depths when a tear streaked down Hakyeon’s cheek, then another, his lips parting to explain and a sob rushing from them as if escaping from the prison Hakyeon had locked it away in.   
   
And Hakyeon cried, he cried so violently that he couldn’t speak, and every time he opened his mouth to do so he would just be stopped by the tightness in his throat, by another body-jolting sob. Taekwoon had pulled him into his chest, holding him tightly, a hand on his jerking back, the other buried in his hair to keep his face pressed tightly to Taekwoon’s shoulder. It was to embrace him, but also to hide the fact that tears were streaking down his own face. “Hakyeon,” he gasped, his throat a desert, feeling chapped and cracked from the sudden dryness. “Hakyeon.” He couldn’t say any more, he couldn’t get it out without breaking down as well. He couldn’t ask again, he couldn’t expect the best from the pain he felt radiating from the other, who was curled into both himself and Taekwoon and bawling with cries so loud, so powerful, yet still muffled easily by the air surrounding.  
   
He carried Hakyeon home, the other still trembling violently but no longer gasping for breath, barely even breathing at all anymore. He didn’t let go at the door, he didn’t let go as they passed Jaehwan in the living room, who whistled in Taekwoon’s victory before realizing that Hakyeon’s face was red and puffy and wet and that Taekwoon was in no better shape. He had no time to correct himself; The bedroom door was already slamming shut behind them. Taekwoon didn’t release Hakyeon even as he clambered onto the bed, pulling the other under the blankets without ever taking both hands off of him, immediately returning the one he removed. Hakyeon’s voice was tight, it was strained, it was painful and Taekwoon wondered why he could feel Hakyeon’s pain so freshly despite the fact that he surely shouldn’t be able to understand the other’s feelings. It took an hour before Hakyeon spoke, Taekwoon having almost passed out in the emotional exhaustion but quickly sobering himself to hear what had actually happened.   
   
“He… I asked him…” the star whispered, Taekwoon pressing his lips to Hakyeon’s forehead to encourage him because it felt right and he could feel the other relax just barely against his body when he did it. “...I asked if there were a way I could be human. Be human or not be the moon. Or even become the moon still and return when I was finished.” Taekwoon nodded softly, carding his fingers through Hakyeon’s hair despite how they were stiff and numb and didn’t want to move so delicately as they needed to. There was a pause before Hakyeon released a small hiccup and shook his head, burying his eyes in in juncture between Taekwoon’s shoulder and neck, clutching his shirt so tightly that it created creases that stayed crisp when he released seconds later. “And he said… he said…” another hiccup, Taekwoon whispering a quiet ‘shh’ despite the fact that they both knew that Hakyeon had to continue, had to explain, that Taekwoon needed to know since, by this point, by some means and some measure, they were in this together.   
   
“...that there wasn’t. He said that it wasn’t possible, that it never had been.” Taekwoon’s ribcage was made of steel and his heart was swelling around the bars of it painfully, refusing to stop pulsing in his chest. He felt the power of his desperation fade as if it were being sucked from him, as if it had never existed in the first place, leaving him feeling disgustingly empty and exhausted. He grasped at it as it faded, trying to catch it like trying to catch a bird mid-flight, like trying to catch a bee that would just sting his hand and slip through the cracks of his fingers when he flinched from the pain. This remaining hope, this little handful of faith in who knew what, was what fueled his next words. “Maybe he doesn’t know everything. Is… is the moon omnipotent?” Hakyeon swallowed, and Taekwoon couldn’t decide if he was entirely limp or tense as concrete in this moment. “I don’t think so. But even if he were wrong, how would we know? Humans wouldn’t know about…” Another choked whimper, a restrained cry that he was too weak to release. “...wouldn’t know about how to save me. They don’t even know I exist, so who else could help besides the moon? Wishes, prayers, those things created us but that was all that humans made for us. The rest… the rest was left up to the universe. Taekwoon…” his fingers tightened into his shirt again, and Taekwoon knew it was unintentional, didn’t care until he realized that Hakyeon’s other hand was digging into his forearm that his fingernails were drawing blood. Taekwoon pulled both of Hakyeon’s hands into his own, whispering, “Don’t hurt yourself, I’m here,” as he did so. Hakyeon gave a weak, uncaring nod. That wasn’t what mattered in this moment. “I’m going to die, Taekwoon,” he mumbled, and the finality of his tone was more terrifying than the reality of the words. “I’m going to become the moon and then I’m going to die.” But Taekwoon shook his head, stared at Hakyeon intensely until the other could feel it enough to meet those eyes with weary ones.   
   
“You won’t. I won’t let it happen, you won’t.” Hakyeon’s eyes narrowed before he laughed, a bitter, quick, breathy laugh that faded into helpless, unintended spite. “Of course you think that, you’re human, Taekwoon. Humans always think they can control things they don’t like, can stop things they don’t want.” He shook his head, he kept shaking it even after he made his point clear, as if he couldn’t stop himself, as if he didn’t have the strength to. “No, that’s not how it is. Death, love, higher power, these are the things that can’t be prevented.” He was crying again, another tear slipping around his high cheekbones. Taekwoon felt himself weaken at Hakyeon’s bitter words because they were true and they described exactly the feeling that he’d had when he was staring up at the moon, demanding that it grant Hakyeon’s wishes in his mind, fooling himself into believing that that would do anything at all. “As for beings like me, fate plays into it as well. I have a job, it’s chosen for me. I can’t say no, I can’t refuse, I can’t rebel. No matter how much I protest, when the current moon turns dark and dies, I’ll be sent up to replace him. I have no control over that. I have no control over any of this, Taekwoon, and I hate it.”   
   
Hakyeon fell asleep long before Taekwoon was capable of doing so, probably too exhausted in his breakdown to stay conscious once the conversation ended. He still had sticky tears on his face, Taekwoon could trace the color of his face so easily in the lighting of the streetlight casting through the window. Blues under the eyes, yellow under that, pinkness still coating his cheeks from his cries, the soft veins on his eyelids. He kissed Hakyeon’s forehead, his cheek, and after much hesitance, his lips, soft and enticing and too real to be something that could ever cease to exist, let alone so soon. He slipped from the star’s loose arms and escaped to the living room after readjusting Hakyeon’s star-decorated mask to properly filter the bitter air, grabbed Jaehwan’s laptop and started to research everything he could about the things he’d read to Hakyeon in further detail. Tribes, religions, everything he could find until there were fresh tears pouring from swollen, irritated eyes down his burning cheeks, until he couldn’t see the tiny words on the screen anymore through his blurry vision, until he was biting his sweater sleeve to keep from waking Hakyeon with his own sobs. He cried and cried and he didn’t remember anything between realizing how truly hopeless this really was and Jaehwan coming in from a party and rushing to him in a stumbling hurry, unable to draw a single coherent word from the other and choosing to just drape a blanket over his shoulders and press his head into a couch pillow that replaced the laptop on the table in front of him. Taekwoon felt sleep tugging gently at his mind and dove into it willingly, wanting to be freed from this tearing helplessness upon realizing that no matter how much research he could do, no matter who he could ask or where he could go, he wouldn’t be able to find what he needed to save Hakyeon in time if it even existed at all. 

The next few days were spent in a daze, both Hakyeon and Taekwoon having fallen silent in a heavy weakness that they were too exhausted to fight. Eating microwaved, eighty-cent meals with trembling chopsticks, eyes heavy and dull with the tears that would come so randomly that they were to be expected. They stayed in the house at night, Taekwoon closing the window’s shutters in his room when he realized that, from Hakyeon’s side of the bed, the moon could be clearly seen like an hourglass trickling with less and less sand at the top by the second. During the day, Taekwoon forced the both of them to leave, to go to the coffee shop and listen to Wonshik’s stupid puns, listen to him get rambled down by irritable elder customers, listen to him flirt innocently and sillily with the other barista, Hongbin, who would simply smile, maybe occasionally flush. He forced them to go about life as if Hakyeon were human, a human without a timer, a human with silver hair and sparkling eyes and the most beautifully lost mind he’d ever seen in someone who wasn’t himself. The tears slowly began to become less common, Taekwoon smiled once when Hakyeon smiled once at Wonshik dumping an iced latte on himself in the process of slipping on the wet floors that he’d forgotten to put the ‘caution’ sign up for. Taekwoon had set a timer on his phone for seven-thirty pm on the twenty-eighth of March, where the sun would set over the last day that they would spend together. He still stayed up late researching theories, finding himself diving much farther into anthropology and mythology than actual science since science in no way explained the consciousness of a star and it’s future towards the moon. Nine days and a few hours. And he refused to spend those days crying, to spend those days wishing for something that was surely impossible. Instead he steeled himself to make them the best damned nine days of Hakyeon’s entire existence, so that even as the moon he would look back upon the places they would visit, the people they would meet, the things they would experience, and smile.  


	7. 'And Back'

There was a palace on the other side of Seoul that Taekwoon had visited on a field trip in elementary school. It was raining the first time he went, a fierce storm that sent the hood of his sweater whipping against the back of his neck, his longer hair covering his face like a veil that kept forgetting which direction gravity fell in. Thunder had roared through the skies, and he only caught a quick glimpse before the teachers were rushing the students into the safety of a nearby aquarium, the field trip compromised to fish-viewing instead. Taekwoon didn’t have too vivid of a memory when it came to things that mattered, like names and dates. But what his mind chose as important stuck, and he still couldn’t forget wondering what those trees with barely any petals remaining would look like on a sunny day in full bloom.   
   
The bus rocked back and forth, Hakyeon’s head bumping against Taekwoon’s bony shoulder in a way that couldn’t be comfortable despite how he’d been resting it there for the majority of the ride. His silver hair glistened in the too-bright sunlight; It was a hot day, at least for mid-March, and Taekwoon released a quivering sigh in dread for summer’s heavy, damp heat. He liked the cold, how it nipped at his skin, enjoyed huddling under the weight of countless blankets and falling asleep to the sound of the wind howling like wolves outside of his window. The summer was relentless, sticky, sweaty, he couldn’t stand it. Thinking like this almost felt normal, about the weather, the seasons. The seasons that Hakyeon would never experience. Taekwoon closed his eyes and rested his head back against the window, which didn’t slam back and forth thanks to the bus having stopped temporarily to release passengers. It would be a dreary summer indeed.   
   
Fifteen more minutes led to him shaking Hakyeon’s shoulder, brushing his messy bangs from his eyes and softly coaxing him to wake from his nap to follow off the bus before the driver became too impatient and left. They were the only ones getting off at this stop, having requested it specifically, so they couldn’t just decide not to go now that they’d paid a bit extra for the transport to go slightly out of its way. He ended up having to practically drag the sleepily stumbling star down the row and out into the sun, where Hakyeon’s eyes squeezed together cutely in response to the bright light. The bus took off and there they were, two small dots on a plain of concrete, the palace up ahead.   
   
There was a soft breeze that brought just enough of the comfortable winter chill along it’s waves, Hakyeon’s hand slowly reaching out and taking Taekwoon’s with comfortable ease. Taekwoon almost separated them. They were in public, during broad daylight, about to walk into a tourist hotspot. Two men holding hands, two men doing anything in a manner as gentle as they often did, would easily be regarded as taboo, as strange, and while he’d been outcasted his entire life he didn’t look forward to the strange looks reappearing. He’d made an effort to disappear effortlessly into crowds and this would make him stand out. But when he attempted to pull his hand away by order of his mind, it refused to move, as if his nerves were holding a rebellion. He was at the least glad that Hakyeon couldn’t hear this internal turmoil, waiting patiently for Taekwoon to take the lead towards the palace as if he wouldn’t mind at all if they never entered, just stood here in thought all day.   
   
But he could make out speckles of pink behind the large, dirtied brick wall, remembered the delicate trees that had been nearly shredded by the storm when he was younger, and took the first step forward.   
   
There was an entry fee, cheap but never cheap enough for a college student working near minimum wage, before they were entering through ancient gates. Hakyeon’s awe was already worth the money before they’d even gotten to the attraction that Taekwoon had brought them there for; The red beams, the artistic architecture, the black, heart shaped textiles on the ever worn roofs that towered high over their heads. He’d promised Hakyeon life, and while that felt more and more hopeless by the day, he could still promise Hakyeon as much of the world as he could gather in frantic hands throughout the week. The other never broke their hands, simply pulling Taekwoon around like a ragdoll to see everything he wanted to with no concept of patience or normality. Taekwoon had expected this much, had figured it would be embarrassing, and it was. The elderly were scowling, probably considering that they were being disrespectful by running around a historical monument, that they were too old to act this way, mothers were shaking their heads when Hakyeon would tug Taekwoon past them to move on quickly to the next thing. But it was all worth it, he decided easily, realizing that he himself was smiling at this moment. Hakyeon’s curiosity that rivalled a child’s, Hakyeon’s beautiful eyes lighting up in awe of something brand new surrounding. He didn’t even care about the trees anymore. Nothing could outstand the view that was whining for him to hurry a bit through quiet, kitten-like whimpers and no actual words.   
   
“What does it say?” Hakyeon asked suddenly, stopping and pointing with demanding excitement towards a tiny plate positioned under a piece of old calligraphy art. Taekwoon blinked a few times to release himself from the hypnosis that was Hakyeon’s happiness before leaning down to focus on the stone plate, realizing that there were multiple of the same type scattered all over the long wall that they were currently standing before. “These are all ancient proverbs. This one says, ‘If you want a well, only dig in one place.’” Hakyeon nodded softly, but the clarity wasn’t there. “What’s a proverb?” Taekwoon could only chuckle before staring up at the huge wall towering over them. There were stone plates far too high to read, some so low to the ground that you’d have to crouch to see the words carved into them clearly. “It’s something symbolic, a quick sentence to teach an entire lesson. This one is explaining somewhat that if you want to do something well and completely, only focus on that one thing. If someone tried to learn to paint, sing, dance, and play instruments all at once, for example, they wouldn’t be fully talented in any of those things since their full focus wasn’t there.” Hakyeon nodded, slowly seeming to better understand, humming in recognition before his eyes flicked back to clarity unusually quickly and he chimed, “Read another?”   
   
This was how they spent most of their time at the palace, standing before this wall, Taekwoon going over the various proverbs and what they were teaching.  
   
‘One moment is worth more than a thousand gold pieces.’  
   
‘The nicest woman is your own; the nicest harvest is your neighbours.’   
   
‘There is no winter without snow, no spring without sunshine, and no happiness without companions.’  
   
They only pulled away when the sun was beginning to set and Taekwoon checked his phone to realize that they only had around an hour and a half until the last bus would set off from the nearest bus stop. He pulled an unwilling Hakyeon from the wall, promising that they’d come back, that they hadn’t seen everything here. That alone was enough to encourage the star to come with him, and the two leisurely walked down the cracked, aging sidewalks until they had to chase after a bus they had been too distracted in their conversation to remember they needed to catch.   
   
Next was an art gallery, where Hakyeon spent hours tracing with his fingers the way the paint on the images bulged from the canvas, Taekwoon not having the heart to tell him that the signs all said ‘Do Not Touch’ in bold font. After that was a cat cafe, where the other had taken such a liking to the animals that he sat there with the biggest grin that Taekwoon had ever seen, stroking a tabby that had been especially fond of him, chattering softly, “You’re a cat. Cat. Do you have a name? Can you speak?” Taekwoon had to explain that animals, in fact, could not speak, after Hakyeon had boldly concluded that the cat was just shy. There was so much he still didn’t know, so much he wouldn’t have time to ever learn. Taekwoon shoved that thought away like the rest he was keeping stored in the darker recesses of his heart, like folded letters that he’d uncrinkle and cry over later when no one would notice his tears.  
   
They visited a huge shopping mall, where Hakyeon took interest in trinkets and jewelry, but mostly the various people surrounding them. He came to Taekwoon with a pair of necklaces that the clerk had kindly explained were for friends or lovers, Hakyeon probably not really knowing the difference just like Taekwoon didn’t at this point. Both were shaped like crescents, the first saying ‘To the Moon,’ the second saying simply ‘and Back.’ As he approached with the brassy jewelry, holding them loosely in his slim hands, he glanced up softly to Taekwoon and muttered, “She said it says, 'and back'?” Taekwoon had nodded, swallowing his sorrow for the upteenth time, smiling in the way he only would ever reveal for Hakyeon and nodding. “And back. You’ll come back, Hakyeon.” Because what was the harm in saying that? Either Hakyeon did come back, which Taekwoon refused to believe wasn’t the only option, or he would never know that he was lied to. There was no guilt in seeing that smile break loosely over that soft face, no shame in muttering those words that visibly relaxed the star's shoulders. Taekwoon bought the necklaces, for the both of their comforts, deciding that he would spend his entire paycheck on tiny things like this since he doubted he would have an appetite after Hakyeon was away anyway. Away. Not gone. Not dead. Away. He was coping, he decided, saying things like this in his head over and over. He’d come back, he’d come back. Maybe repeating this was for his own relief as well.   
   
They went to a nightclub with Jaehwan and promptly were abandoned by the younger, as expected by Taekwoon who honestly had looked forward to the loud male rushing off towards the bar. The atmosphere was cold but intimate, blue lighting trickled around purple walls, strangers grinding on strangers who all just wanted to disappear in their own way, not too unlike they themselves did in their own minds. They never stepped onto the floor, simply watching people dance and people kiss and people pull other people away in a consensual, pleasure-drunken stagger towards the nearest exit. They never stepped onto the floor, Taekwoon didn’t drink and Hakyeon didn’t seem to know that alcohol even existed, and yet somehow, an unperceived amount of time later, Taekwoon was gently but desperately pressing against Hakyeon in a dim hallway, the star’s back to the wall, their lips moving in slow synchronization in such a strong opposition to the heavy beat that was lost to their ears. They were fire, they were real, Taekwoon could feel Hakyeon’s heart racing better than he could feel his own, tongues dancing in a way that was never explained, never taught, yet somehow so natural to them. His hands on the curve of Hakyeon’s hips, his mouth sucking galaxies into the smooth skin of Hakyeon’s collarbone, and soon they were just another pair stumbling towards privacy, too lost in the moment to understand who they were, where they were, or why. 

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon had gasped that night, over and over, his breath as weak as it was desperate. He whispered it again after, voice weak and breathy as they lay together under the tangled mess of Taekwoon’s sheets, skin against skin and bodies still warm from their intimacy. “Taekwoon, is this what love feels like?” The human tightened his arms around Hakyeon’s body, breathing in the distinct, clean scent of Hakyeon from the other’s silver hair as if it were as vital as oxygen was. He wasn’t sure if Hakyeon was referring to intercourse or whatever he was feeling otherwise, but by the time he asked for clarification, the other was fast asleep.


	8. New

They returned to the palace, as promised, the morning of the twenty-sixth, Hakyeon’s second to last morning remaining. Taekwoon’s heart had collapsed further and further in on itself over the past week, only to be temporarily reinflated by Hakyeon’s questions, his presence, his existence. But when he opened his eyes that morning, it was like a hole had finally been punctured into the side of the organ, and the distractions suddenly couldn’t hide the inevitable reality that was far too soon to occur. Hakyeon was the one to drag him out of bed that morning, whispering that he really wanted to go back, that he wanted to talk with Taekwoon about proverbs again and look at the pretty trees that Taekwoon had mentioned that he hadn’t gotten to see. The other rose only for Hakyeon’s sake, and he was already exhausted by the time they’d stepped onto the bus just trying to keep himself composed. He didn’t care about his image in this moment, pulling Hakyeon close to him, nuzzling into his hair, kissing his forehead every few minutes and whispering quietly, “I love you, I want you to know, okay?” Hakyeon transitioned gradually throughout the ride from being joyful at these proclamations towards appearing uneasy, as if Taekwoon’s desperation to push these words out was a clear sign that there wouldn’t be any more time to say them later. By the time the bus stopped at the palace, they were both tired and weak.

 

The cherry blossom trees weren’t nearly as impressive as Taekwoon had anticipated. They were pretty, sure, but far too realistic in this moment of lost thought and bitter anticipation. The two dreamers sat on a bench and stared at the pink petals for a decent few hours anyway until a raindrop plopped onto their conjoined hands, Taekwoon only then realizing how overcast it was. Despite the rain, neither stood to move, Taekwoon not caring for his own health and it not mattering for Hakyeon anyway, who would be leaving the next night. Their soaked hair dripped and the rain weighed down their clothes, the two huddling close as it was just warm enough outside still not to shiver. “I don’t want to go,” Hakyeon whispered after two hours of silence, two hours that passed far too quickly as time always did when separation was approaching.

 

They stayed until nightfall, whispering maybe once an hour some subtle, simple thought that held so much more weight than could ever be expressed. Taekwoon didn’t remember them actually deciding to leave, but he did remember the smaller details, the taxi taking a pothole slightly too fast, their clothes dripping tears onto the worn carpet of the apartment, a sulken Jaehwan mumbling to turn off the lights when the living room was already as dark and miserable as it could get, Hakyeon trembling from both cold and hiccuping sobs he was attempting to hide as Taekwoon drew a bath for him first, pretending like he didn’t notice them because he could barely contain his own.

 

That night they went to the cafe, a different barista, Hongbin, standing at the counter since Wonshik seemed to only work the morning shifts. They had watched the two interact during their near daily visits, watched silently, listened in. Wonshik had a crush on Hongbin, it was clear from his stutter, from his clumsiness, how Hongbin’s silly teases would make his ears turn red at the tips like someone had pressed a burner to them. It was cold and the windows were foggy, Hongbin for some reason seeming determined to wipe down all of the mist inside, outside, and all around the panes despite how the chill and humidity would coat them once more. They watched in silence until Hakyeon’s hands trembled and his drink spilled, the star not even noticing that now-lukewarm coffee was dumping all over his hands and the borrowed pair of Taekwoon’s jeans until Taekwoon was rushing back with napkins, dabbing at the table and the mess on the floor and Hongbin was all too playfully nagging at how he’d ‘just cleaned that table.’

 

Taekwoon had been the one kneeling beside the chair, helping Hongbin mop up the mess with paper towels that soaked through far too quickly to be of much help, and when he looked up he noted that Hakyeon was holding the tiny crescent necklace with both hands, staring with blank, dull eyes at the wall in front of him. ‘And Back’ was hiding between his fingers, the words on his half of the necklaces, Taekwoon having taken the other one, the chain weightless around his neck and the charm cold against his chest. It was hidden beneath his shirt, since Hakyeon kept his so visible constantly and he didn’t want the clarity that they were probably falling in love to become physical. He didn’t want Jaehwan bugging him any further about finally finding someone to make out with, he didn’t want Wonshik to give them sideways glances and knowing grins when they came to get their coffees. He didn’t want anyone to know how much he cared for Hakyeon because oh how it would hurt already without them asking where he had gone. This way he could just say that he left, that Hakyeon moved on, and they would move past it since a month wasn’t that long for most people like this month had been for Taekwoon, a month wasn’t long enough to care about someone, to fall in… if this even was love..., for most people.

 

They spent the night doing pointless nothings, too tired from the events before, too tired from the pain that had been steadily growing like a planted seed ever since Hakyeon had said those words that promised his uncontrollable destiny, too tired to sleep and desperate to use every minute they had left. They stared up at the tiny sliver of the remaining moon, Hakyeon whispering to it various questions until he decided that the moon was too weak to reply anymore. They stared up at the sun that ignited the previously dark sky, watched it rise to full glory. And that day they stayed inside, neither prompting the other to go out, to do anything. Their lips would connect, their hands, their hearts, and both were too weak to cry in this moment, sharing kisses on the bed in Taekwoon’s rotting apartment to the melody of car horns and airplane engines above.

 

They were calm until the sky began to fade to pink, and Taekwoon was too busy staring at Hakyeon to notice the change until the star released a quiet hiccup and his lip quivered, hands tightening around Taekwoon’s with the intention to either mold their palms together or shatter his bones. The tightness in Taekwoon’s throat was almost suffocating and his eyes were scalding under the boiling tears that he refused to let fall until after… until after Hakyeon… “I’m scared,” the star whispered, his voice weak and airy but spilling with more emotion than most people could comprehend, Hakyeon resting his forehead on Taekwoon’s shoulder, then slowly slipping into his lap. It wasn’t the first time the other had initiated contact, but Taekwoon found himself surprised when Hakyeon was sitting in between his crossed legs, arms wrapped around his neck, lips pressed to his neck as he mumbled again, breath settling in Taekwoon’s collarbone, “I’m scared.”

 

He was scared too, but ‘scared’ wasn’t the least of it. His heart was cracking as if it were being pounded with a steel mallet, splitting under the pressure. His eyes were wet and burning, like oil on fire, like gasoline, like alcohol. His body was limp and tense all at once, his instincts begging him to take hold of Hakyeon and refuse to let the universe take him. Hakyeon had said once that Taekwoon was only human, and the helplessness of those words didn’t hit until now, now when he realized that he couldn’t stop this, he had tried his damnedest, he was trying now, staring up at the sun as if it could save Hakyeon like the moon couldn’t, begging and begging and praying to any being that would listen. Because Hakyeon didn’t want to go, and because Taekwoon loved Hakyeon more than he would ever fully comprehend. He was scared too. He was anxious, he was grieving, he was desperate, he was in love and fuck how it hurt, feeling this body in his arms and knowing that within the next few hours he would never hold, see, sense, or hear Hakyeon again.

 

He choked on a sob, one that rebelled against his order to stay hidden, and Hakyeon squeezed him tighter. His neck was wet where the star’s eyes were pressed against it, Hakyeon’s hair was wet right at the roots where Taekwoon was burying his face, trying to lock the other away into his memory, trying to grasp this moment like one would try to grasp water in their cupped hand. The sky was neon now and the color was only a reminder that the darkness was coming, the darkness of the new moon, the darkness of goodbye, it hurt so badly. Taekwoon stood, stood so suddenly that Hakyeon nearly fell, taking the other’s house and pulling him out of the room, out of the apartment, out of the complex and down the street. Hakyeon was trembling, questioning, asking where they were going, calling his name as if knowing that Taekwoon wasn’t able to hear him because he was lost once more in the depths of his thought, in the depths of his desperation because there was one last place that he wanted to show Hakyeon before…

 

The sky was dimming and the sun was red, a small orb rolling on the line of the horizon as Taekwoon slowed, approaching their destination. His breath was heavy, and he could hear Hakyeon panting behind him as he took to a quick stride, and soon the grass under their feet had turned to wood. The wind was colder on the lake-side, and the boards of the pier creaked under their feet. The sky was painted purple at the base and there wasn’t much longer now. Would Hakyeon vanish the moment the sun fell too low to be visible…? Would it be sometime randomly over the course of the night, would it happen quickly, would Taekwoon blink and find his hand empty…? As if not allowing this, powerful enough to do so or not, he pulled the other into his arms, Hakyeon stumbling a bit over his feet and falling into Taekwoon’s chest, quickly curling his arms around the other’s waist tightly and releasing a shuddering breath into his jacket. “Taekwoon,” he mumbled, the other humming into his hair, breathing in his scent, keeping his tear-stained cheeks out of sight since Hakyeon’s last moments shouldn’t be ones of worry, concern, or guilt. “Taekwoon, I love you. Taekwoon.” He said his name over and over, whispering it under his breath as if cherishing the way it sounded from his own voice.

 

“Taekwoon, Taekwoon.” The sky was dark now, the faintest tint of color still barely visible, and his grip on Hakyeon’s body was clinging, long fingers digging into the tee-shirt that Taekwoon had given him, two sizes too big and stained with purple glitter paint. “I love you, Taekwoon.” He said it back, he said it so many times, how much he loved Hakyeon, how he’d miss him, how he’d surely come back, how he had to, how somehow, somewhere, they would meet again. He said these things between each breath, but while his words floated into the air and dissipated like smoke, Hakyeon’s were solid, carving like tattoos into his heart.

 

‘I love you.’  
‘I’ll watch over you.’  
‘Will I really come back…?’  
‘I’m scared.’  
‘I love you so much.’  
‘Taekwoon.’

 

The sky was black and the only reason they could see a thing was because Hakyeon’s skin was faintly glowing, reminiscent of the night of the full moon when Taekwoon had first kissed him, confused and slightly drunk on Hakyeon’s ethereal presence. His eyes were blue like sapphires, blue like ice in the ocean, blue like the currently inky water would be once the sun rose again in twelve hours. They held tightly in this darkness, and Taekwoon realized only for the second time that Hakyeon was cold, not in the way of concrete on bare feet in the winter, not in the way of steel appliances or narrowed glares. He was cold in the manner of snow, soft and delicate to the extent that Taekwoon didn’t even realize that his entire body was stinging from the chill until Hakyeon was kissing him, his lips so real. He closed his eyes, and for a solid three minutes their breaths were connected, their bodies, their minds, their souls were one.

He didn’t feel a thing, too lost in savoring this moment, too overwhelmed by emotion, too detached from reality to notice that somehow, within the past ten seconds, his arms had become empty and fallen to his side, his lips had become cold without the pressure of another’s. By the time his eyes were slipping open, heavy and dazed, he was alone in the darkness of the old wooden pier, air thick and silence pulsing. He wondered in a brief serenity if Hakyeon hadn’t noticed as well, if he was too lost in their unified existence as well to feel any fear as he faded from the world he was so desperate to remain a part of. But the brief moment of peace passed away and Taekwoon fell to his knees, lips parting yet no sound escaping his swollen throat, his eyes burning, his hands stiff and limp all at once. And throughout all the ‘I love you’s, he was never completely able to say goodbye.


	9. Hollow

He slept on the pier, never intending to fall asleep. It was as if his body decided to shut down without permission, to spare its owner from the pain of the empty night as if the rips in his wellbeing would be relieved on its own by morning. Taekwoon woke to the sun casting meager warmth on his face, his eyes irritated, his lips chapped and tongue dry, face crusted with old tears that were layered with new ones the moment he rose to consciousness. For the first time in his recent life, he had quickly decided that he’d be determined not to think, and forced his mind silent until he was asleep again somehow.

Taekwoon was dead for three days, the steady, trembling throb of his heartbeat the only explanation as to why he didn’t follow Hakyeon into the stars. He had no memory of Jaehwan carrying him home upon finding him sixteen hours after Hakyeon was removed from the world, had no memory of his legs dragging in the grass, staining the tips of his white sneakers a moldy color that reminded him of the Earth that he wished he wasn’t trapped upon. He only knew what his roommate had told him, some dramatic story of how he’d gotten drunk off his ass and crashed on the lakeside, whined over the boy who’d clearly gotten his head straight and left. 

Taekwoon didn’t correct him, Taekwoon didn’t have the mental processing to do so. The moment he was able to stand without his knees buckling and his feet crumbling not unlike the ash his heart had already sputtered into, he stumbled outside and fell backwards onto the asphalt, ignoring the cry echoing from his back as it smacked against the solid pavement. He stared up at the sky, the stars, the empty hole in the cosmos where Hakyeon would slowly but surely appear, ethereal and brilliant, just like he did on earth. He’d reach his hand up and pretend like the sky was so much closer, pretend like he could feel the flow of space bending under his fingertips, morphing to his skin, like if he just made enough of an effort he’d be able to pluck the stars from the sky and caress Hakyeon until the other fell back into his awaiting arms. 

It always felt as if he was just barely out of reach, no matter how he jumped, no matter how high of a building he stood on. Jaehwan would always be dragging him back at some point, murmuring how he needed help, therapy, how he was obsessed, the words becoming less and less of a joke each time they were spoken. The moon was no longer the moon, the moon in its current sliver of silver was a ticking timer, the moon was the harsh reality that he’d never be able to reach far enough, the moon was Hakyeon with tears in his eyes, sobbing that he didn’t want to leave. 

It was cold out, a storm having blown through and knocked signs from their bases, leaves spinning in a mock tornado in anticipation towards the grey skies. Taekwoon was laying on the asphalt as he did every night, his eyes dull, his hand outstretched, having been so until his nerves were so numb that he didn’t even feel the static in them anymore. His face was pink, his nose was running, his eyes were puffy and the tears peeking from the corners were like ice. His mouth was constantly dry, and Jaehwan swore that whether you were hungover or had just bawled the night before, hydration was key. 

Taekwoon didn’t care, little did Jaehwan know he hadn’t even eaten in the three days the younger had been mothering him as a side-job between socializing and work. He hadn’t done anything really, sleeping in the day and spending nights gazing at Hakyeon with a passion, as if he’d be able to communicate through his stare, through his pounding heartbeat and desperation. The previous moon had already proven that this method was pointless, but Taekwoon was a dreamer, and accepting that this want to speak to Hakyeon again, this need that had consumed his life and absorbed his being until he was nothing but the tears and corpse that held him to earth, accepting that it was impossible… He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t capable, he’d tried over and over. But there would always be that ‘what if.’ ‘What if I could do something and I just need to keep looking?’ ‘What if I could’ve done something before?’ 

“You need a drink,” Jaehwan muttered, and for the first time since pubescent years too blurred by intoxication to recall, Taekwoon didn’t even breathe towards disagreement. He allowed himself to be pulled to Jaehwan’s favorite dingy, crumbling pub until he recognized the fog rolling in, mist hazing under the streetlamp that he’d stood under exactly a month before, peeking into an alley after being drawn in by a quiet cough. The wave of nausea after making the connection was like a punch to the gut, and Jaehwan physically had to catch him before he collapsed, lips parting in a gag that tore his throat, already raw from the weight of it all. Another bar, too many people. Another bar, and now the moon was reappearing in the sky, sun setting just enough that Hakyeon became visible, a sliver of purity in the inky, smogged sky. Taekwoon found himself asking if the other was doing well, mumbling it in a slur as Jaehwan asked if he was even sober now, sighing with annoyance at his roommates confusing behavior. They ended up going home early, Jaehwan always having been someone who despised being placed in a role of maturity, of responsibility. “I’m scheduling you with a counselor,” the other grumbled, tapping away at his phone as he kneeled over Taekwoon on the asphalt of their complex’s parking lot, the elder staring blankly at the sky. “Jeez, he probably left cause you scared him with this stupid obsession. You’re lucky to have me, you know that?” 

Taekwoon hated the sun now, hated it with a burning passion, because while it was flaunting its scalding glory, Hakyeon’s beauty was hidden behind the rays. His job had finally decided that four days of work missed without reason or notice was enough, and the ajumma who made snacks for him on holidays and defended him from overbearing female customers bitterly apologized as they had to let him go. He didn’t make any excuses, there was no focus left in him to hold a job. Jaehwan had furiously shoved him when he found out, yelling that he was being selfish, that there was no way in hell they could afford rent without a second hand, that this stupid mourning or whatever of some boy Taekwoon had only known for a month was ruining him. He didn’t disagree, falling into the table without even attempting to catch himself, and after a moment of realizing what he’d done, Jaehwan extended a hand to help him up. “I’m sorry,” his roommate murmured; They’d never physically fought before. Despite Jaehwan drinking and groping and having the reputation of a horrible person, he’d never hurt Taekwoon intentionally. It just went to show how angry he was. Taekwoon wondered why he didn’t feel the guilt racing to the surface like it usually did when he upset his supposed best friend. Maybe he was just too overwhelmed for yet another emotion to appear. 

He didn’t want to go. A counselor wouldn’t believe him any more than any other human would, and if he told his honest story a counselor would be in a better position to put him in a mental facility or something. What was he supposed to say? ‘I found a man in an alley, let him live in my apartment. Turns out he’s actually the moon, gonna die soon, so I kissed him, I made love to him, and he faded in my arms and is now hovering over us in the sky. He’ll die in a few days so I’m a little stressed.’ Is that what a counselor would respond well to? But even Jaehwan didn’t get it, he would never get it. Taekwoon had drank the night before, sputtering out that he had to save him, that Hakyeon was still alive, the elder openly yelling out promises to the ethereal being that he’d get him out before he died. When Jaehwan had asked who he was even talking to, Taekwoon had simply pointed up at the thin crescent that was somewhat shrouded with a mist of thin clouds. He looked crazy, he’d sound crazy. A counselor would just waste time that he could be studying like he was now, studying for something he had missed before, something that could bring Hakyeon back. 

But Jaehwan was getting sick of him, and though he knew his roommate would never want to kick him out, he figured it wouldn’t be too long until Jaehwan would be forced to put some distance between himself and Taekwoon. Jaehwan wasn’t meant for deeper comfort, he couldn’t process mental ambiguity, living for the now, living for what was easy and felt good. Taekwoon was none of these things on a common day, but now he was the complete opposite, difficult to care for and impossible to understand. These traits scared Jaehwan, Taekwoon knew that well after years of hanging around the other. No, Jaehwan would back out at this rate and Taekwoon would let him. It was probably for that reason that Jaehwan had cancelled his plans for the first time in his life to drag Taekwoon across the street towards the tiny little center where small businesses trickled in and out. “I’m not going to let you destroy yourself like this,” Jaehwan mumbled, his voice low and exhausted, and Taekwoon knew that if he were stable enough to care the knowledge that he was causing serious issues for not only Jaehwan but his now ex-employer would be killing him. He dragged his feet but eventually a glass door was being shoved open and Jaehwan was yanking him inside by the wrist. 

It was cozy and Taekwoon didn’t care. The walls were a down-toned pastel green that reminded him of herbs and oversized hoodies in the autumn, Taekwoon didn’t care. The man sitting behind a desk in the corner of the two roomed, tiny area blinked up, smiling gently. His eyes were kind, understanding, not a single ounce of familiar judgement exhaled at the fact that Taekwoon was a twenty-three year old man throwing a tantrum right now, still struggling too desperately to get to the door again, growling out in a quiet but furious voice, “Jaehwan let me fucking go…” 

The man didn’t interrupt and Taekwoon figured that, while he wasn’t grateful for anything at this moment, he could at least appreciate that this stranger wasn’t trying to break up their scuffle. He was tall, hands shoved into the front pockets of some casual, chocolate colored slacks, his pink jacket loose and flowy. He looked young, Taekwoon didn’t care. He didn’t want to manage yet another person calling him crazy, slurring that his stupid story was overwhelmingly imagined, that he probably had a mental illness or something that never came out until he dated for the first time and said date ditched him. ‘That’s what you get for living with someone too soon into a relationship,’ ‘That’s what you get for being so creepy,’ ‘That’s what you get for trying to date a hobo, a guy, a stranger.’ He didn’t get anything, not anything that mattered, because the only thing that he’d ever be satisfied getting was Hakyeon back into his arms. Even if he couldn’t have him, even if he’d never see the other again, he had to save him, because Hakyeon didn’t want to die and time was passing far too fast. 

He grew tired quickly, no food and too much sleep leading to his energy sputtering out, his arm falling limp as Jaehwan nearly crushed his thin wrist in unintentional victory. The man took this moment to approach, bowing his head and smiling in a way that both enticed Taekwoon’s racing heart to breathe and made him scared that this person had ulterior motives because there was no way a stranger’s smile should seem so relaxing after witnessing a struggle like that. “Taekwoon, right? My name is Sanghyuk.” He seemed like someone you’d bump into at a coffee shop rather than a counselor, but the small, teal clipboard in his hands spoke that he was the counselor he so dreaded to see. Taekwoon glared into Jaehwan’s eyes and Jaehwan glared back with words unspoken being boldly declared; ‘You need this.’ 

“Taekwoon, could you follow me?” The elder froze up as the counselor slipped behind a thin, spotted veil that led to the second room, and his feet were so firmly planted into the ground that Jaehwan’s shove didn’t even make him teeter. He was stiff, he was frozen, the fucking sun was out but it was okay because Hakyeon was behind that sun, Hakyeon could hear him now as he breathed that he was uncomfortable, he was scared, that he needed to be helping him, knowing without knowledge that Hakyeon was comforting him right now like only Hakyeon would do. Jaehwan ended up having to tug him into the other room as well, his body incapable of moving itself, turned to concrete in its anxiety. He was shoved onto a couch that absorbed the entirety of the fall and immediately his arms crossed over his chest, nails digging into his forearms through the thin hoodie that still smelled faintly of Hakyeon, the one the star had always found to be more comfortable than the rest of Taekwoon’s clothing. Sanghyuk was sitting in an armchair across from him, and though his eyes were soft, he didn’t smile any longer, seeming to realize that the simple and fake nature of grinning in this situation would only bring Taekwoon’s steel walls up further. Jaehwan grunted that he was going to go get a coffee, not mentioning that it would be spiked, and even a Taekwoon in a panic attack knew the haze in his roommate’s eyes when he wanted to drink himself unconscious; He’d be walking back alone after this session, and he contemplated not returning to the apartment at all, still furious at his friend despite knowing that Jaehwan was only trying to help, just being too stupid and closed-minded to understand. 

Once the room was void of anyone besides the two, Taekwoon’s presence overwhelming and Sanghyuk’s gentle, the counselor began to speak once more. “Taekwoon, what’s got you so panicked right now?” The words weren’t accusing in the slightest, a simple question, and Taekwoon found that at the least Sanghyuk’s voice wasn’t that dreamy, halfhearted bullshit that he always heard from counselors on tv. He sounded like a concerned friend, and he was a little shocked at how amiable Sanghyuk felt when they’d only known each other for around three minutes. “I don’t want to be here,” the other answered directly, staring at the curtain that would lead to the door that would get him out. His legs begged to push him up, to take him out of there. He wasn’t sure what was keeping them from taking control and dragging him out. Sanghyuk nodded sympathetically; it seemed like a lot of his clients felt this way. “You can leave anytime, don’t feel restricted to stay, but Jaehwan requested that you at least try your best to make it through the session.” Taekwoon nodded, never making eye contact with this person who was calming in a way that didn’t feel like an attack on his anxiety, gentle in a manner that slowly, gently drew him from the panic in a way that reminded him of…

...of Hakyeon. And the anxiety was back full-fledge, his fingers digging through the sweater’s measly fabric, creating unseen crescents into his pale skin. “So, I guess is there anything you want me to know about you?” Sanghyuk relaxed back into the armchair’s knitted embrace, tilting his head gently. “Jaehwan told me certain things, but I’ve learned over the years that perspective varies extremely.” Taekwoon liked Sanghyuk, it seemed they thought similarly in a way, but there was no comfort in this moment. He just wanted to leave. “You can’t help me, it’s not a mental problem,” Taekwoon blurted without much resolution. Sure, there was a mental problem, his anxiety, his fear of socialization, the way he could disappear into his thoughts for days upon end if he wasn’t being called from reality. But that wasn’t what he was dealing with now, that wasn’t important now, and he didn’t have time to fix problems that could be fixed after Hakyeon had been saved. 

“Well, what’s been causing you to hurt?” And here it would come, the story that he was so inclined not to tell. Sanghyuk continued, “Jaehwan said that you’ve had a lot of anxiety for the past few years now, but it seems like the problem really plaguing you has to do with your current situation, does it not?” He didn’t know how much Sanghyuk knew, or what Jaehwan had told him from Jaehwan’s limited perspective. He didn’t even know how to explain in a way that wouldn’t immediately label him as crazy. “I’m on a timer,” he whispered. “To save someone that I love.” It sounded pitiful, it sounded imaginary, and he with complete confidence expected Sanghyuk to laugh, eyebrows creasing when no such sound came from the other as if the counselor not laughing was mocking in and of itself. “Who is it?” 

“His name is Hakyeon. He’s… he’s dying.” He’d explain it as close to a realistic situation as he could, avoid the fact that he himself hadn’t been able to comprehend for the longest amount of time, that Hakyeon was the moon, that the moon had a mind, that the moon could talk and smile and kiss and love as well. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Sanghyuk confessed, and those words were rarely honest but in this case, Taekwoon could feel the secondhand sorrow. Any other counselor and he would’ve been gone by now. Maybe he could make it through this, but then again, it’d only been five minutes and his heart was already pounding from the weight of the conversation. “And you think you can save him..?” 

“I have to save him,” Taekwoon announced before the other had even finished, Sanghyuk letting his mouth fall shut as Taekwoon had unintentionally leaned forward, eyes lighting up with a desperate passion. “Because he doesn’t want to die. I told him I would find a way to save him.” The counselor nodded slowly, scribbling something down quickly, replying as he did so so there wouldn’t be breaks in the conversation. “Where is he now?” Sanghyuk asked curiously. “Do you visit him?” Taekwoon froze, and his confidence diminished, back sinking into the almost uncomfortably cushy sofa. The pause was long and drawn, and Taekwoon had disappeared long into his mind by the time Sanghyuk offered that he didn’t have to answer. He simply nodded and the conversation drew on. 

“You said you love Hakyeon, correct?” Taekwoon nodded, his entire heart, mind, and soul driving the motion. If he had to decide on one truth of the universe, it was that he wholeheartedly loved the person he was now trying to save. “In what way?” 

“He… I just love him. It’s not in any way, I just do.” More scribbling, Taekwoon zoned out into a landscape that was framed on the wall. He wished it were nighttime, he felt so much comfortable being able to see Hakyeon, even if just from the bay window that peeked out to the street corner. “Jaehwan told me… that you talk to Hakyeon through the sky.” Sanghyuk’s voice was soft, and there was no way the words couldn’t have been offensive no matter how the man could’ve phrased them, given how invasive they were. “How come?” Taekwoon swallowed, digging his nails into the couch, wondering if he’d even feel guilty if he tore the fabric from the pressure, doubting he had the emotional space to add anything else to his burden. Sanghyuk hardly seemed worried about the condition of his sofa, instead staring at Taekwoon searchingly, as if he could read the answer like a book rather than listening to the words that would draw from Taekwoon’s lips. 

And suddenly he realized he just didn’t care anymore. If Sanghyuk called him crazy he’d be able to walk out, be able to give up on everyone, focus wholeheartedly on his research. Taekwoon inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, before murmuring to no one in particular. “Hakyeon is the moon, that’s why.” Sanghyuk seemed visibly stunted before slowly repeating, “The moon?” 

“Mhm. He was a star that came to earth for a lunar cycle before recently becoming the moon. Once the next new moon hits, he’ll die. That’s why I need to save him. Call me crazy so I can walk out and continue working on that.” Taekwoon’s voice was entirely monotone, static, frozen, and Sanghyuk released a gentle breath before seeming to decide that Taekwoon had, in his assumption that he’d be kicked out, already closed himself off again completely. “I won’t call you crazy because you’re not, but you seem ready to leave.” A soft nod and Sanghyuk was rising to his feet, Taekwoon grateful to be able to follow his pounding instincts and do the same. “Please come back some time so we can discuss this further,” Sanghyuk smiled, and though wary, it was genuine once more. Taekwoon couldn’t understand the lack of disbelief, and without even a goodbye he was walking out. 

The sun was setting and he felt nauseous, pacing off the opposite direction from his apartment. He had no job, no obligations any longer other than trying and trying on his lonesome to turn the moon back into a human within a month’s time. He was tired in the wrong way and there was no making this sobbing, hollow weight fade. He made his way back to the pier, laying down and closing his eyes until the light no longer blazed through the lids, until the sky was dark and Hakyeon was leaning over him, smiling gently, whispering soft words of encouragement. To see that beautiful face in the night sky rather than a hunk of rock in space, to not be able to change his perspective, to reach his hand up and grasp the empty air above like it ever got him any closer to Hakyeon before. This was how he’d live until the moon turned dark, not accepting that there could be a reality after that moment where Hakyeon wouldn’t be back by his side.


	10. Grief

Taekwoon didn't go back to see Sanghyuk until three days later on an unnaturally scalding, cloudless afternoon. Sunny days were the bane of his conscience when all he lived for was Hakyeon's trickling light blessing his sickly skin, but he couldnt bear to lay static in the guilt that swept down his neck in the form of sweat that soaked into the apartment's prickling carpet. Jaehwan had worked morning to night the past few days, scraping into the living room at times that orbitted around midnight, exhaustion weighing at his recently overabundant youth. But the bills always chose to come at the worst moments, and with Taekwoon out of a paycheck, the two would have to give or take on basic necessities. For this month, they chose to lose the AC, which wouldnt have been that bad if nature had obediently ran through the maze that the forecaster set. But through promises of slight breezes and possible showers, jacket weather and 'bring an umbrella,' it was bright and it was hot.

His footsteps were silent on the pavement, a learned habit of many years, but the aglets of his haphazardly tied laces clicked in a rhythm like drumsticks on a flat surface or like middle schoolers who couldnt stop tapping on the desk if they tried. He probably shouldnt have worn a hoodie out, especially not an unwashed one that would stink more apparentally under the sun's insufferable heat. But Hakyeon had worn this sweater and Taekwoon felt asphyxiated without the soft caress of the fabric that once swamped over the star's hands, dripping from his fingertips, sleeves stretched from years of Taekwoon pulling on them whenever he felt anxious. It was bittersweet how a few of his shirts still smelled of fresh winter with an undertone of jasmine. It was bittersweet how day by day the scent of Hakyeon faded until Taekwoon was shoving the clothes the other wore into his face, desperately clinging to the aroma that was dancing away almost as fast as Hakyeon did that night on the pier. 

His fingers grazed over the hot metal of the brass door handle, allowing his fingerprints to sting from the heat in a manner of distracting himself from the knowledge that he didnt have to show up. Why was he even here again? But he'd stayed up until the moon faded last night reading obscure articles that were at the least titled 'nonfiction,' cursing himself harshly for losing time when he woke at two-thirty with the long-dead laptop laying sideways beside his lap. This was a waste of time. Hell, Sanghyuk would probably send him away with annoyed declarations slathered with professionalism that he had another client, that Taekwoon would need to make an appointment. His stomach bubbled in a way that was too familiar to always tickle so uncomfortably. Before he could regain the lucidity to turn and walk back to who knew where, his hand was jerking down on the handle and the door was swinging open easily as if applauding him for his uncharacteristic decision. 

The office was cool, a refreshing breeze beckoning Taekwoon to take a few steps in, the cool air so relieving on his feverish skin. As easily as it'd opened the door swung shut the moment he released it, slamming so assertively that Taekwoon jumped a bit at the muffled noise. The walls were still a muted green, the chairs were scattered around in a semi-organized manner as if they'd been pushed around and never led back to their designated locations. The thin curtain between the two small rooms rippled under the advances of the air vent, and there were weighted voices trickling loosely towards Taekwoon's ears from behind it. 

A woman was sobbing, and it was strange how the sound gave him comfort. Maybe it was the familiarity of the anguish that he could hear, pethaps it was how her sorrow was currentlybeing expressed so honestly. He lowered himself into an armchair with an almost disproportionately short back in the far corner of the toom, trying and at least mildly succeeding in finding some comfort in how the cushions cheerfully gave under his weight, embracing what they could reach. His head bumped against the wall behind him and he lifted his arm to grace the back of his hand along the smooth, sturdy surface, finding comfort in how it didnt hurt to do so like the almost popcorn-style paint that was in his own house that would irritably spike into whatever touched it. He took to not listening to the words on the other side of the curtain, just resting in the raw, trembling sobs of the woman and Sanghyuk's comfortingly natural voice, soft in sympathy but not too gentle to sound faked like the therapists on television who'd always ask, 'And how did that make you feel?'

He wondered why he felt somewhat like he was betraying Hakyeon by being here. Maybe it was because willingly going to a mental health professional would indicate that there was something wrong with him to cause this anguish, deminishing Hakyeon's existance, perhaps it was because he was using the time here that he could be spending staring at the moon in monotonous, hour-long videos on the internet, trying to find details of Hakyeon in it until the sun set and he could go outside, continuing to do the same thing. Maybe it was because walking into a councelor's office rather than laying in his bed with tears sticky on his face in might seem like a sign of moving on. He wasn't. Even if his body tried, he was determined to condemn himself to misery for not saving Hakyeon in time. 

The curtain rustled much more harshly than the vent could do justice, and Taekwoon glanced up with weary eyes as Sanghyuk's head peeked through. The therapist blinked softly, unassumingly, and Taekwoon wondered how young you had to be to go into this profession; The man in front of him didnt look a day older than twenty, he didnt notice before because he'd never once met eyes with Sanghyuk during their first meeting. "Taekwoon," Sanghyuk stated, his surprise fading into a calmly excited smile. "You came back." He sounded as if he had questioned it, and Taekwoon wasnt sure if he should feel guilty for being here or guilty for waiting so long to return. 

"Sorry," he mused in a mumble, one that he wished would be drowned out by the vent's soft rattle, but Sanghyuk could probably read the word rolling from his lips with how often the man probably heard it day to day. "Don't be, you have no reason to be. Me and Dahyun are finishing up our conversation, so I'll be out again in a bit." He could hear quiet sniffles, the girl was calming down in the privacy the curtain gave. Sanghyuk shot Taekwoon a smile and ducked back into the room, his footsteps padded and soft on the smooth floors. It felt homey here, now that he was noting his surroundings. Maybe this time he'd actually stay for a while. 

Taekwoon distracted himself easily taking in the mounted darkwood frames filled with greyscale yet breathing city streets and hand-painted bridges over calm waters. They were timeless images, ones that refused to reveal the harrowing stresses and lingering deadlines that were the unfortunate constants of reality.  He'd taken a more detailed interest to a picture of a desolate wooden railroad track given company by abundantly healthy nature when the curtain was shuffling again and a young girl stepped out, her pink lipstick taking the spotlight on her face after all of her eyeliner had been smeared onto the back of her hand. Taekwoon focused on the long, swiping streaks of it so that he wouldnt have to uncomfortably meet her eyes; It was always uncomfortable to look someone in the face after they'd heard you crying, whether a friend or a stranger. In respect of the girl's metaphorical image not being drawn with tearstains and puffy eyes, he didnt glance at her face as she hussled out the door. 

Sanghyuk's padded footsteps made way to the chair nearer to Taekwoon's and he released a soft breath of simple relaxation as he sunk into the cushions huddling under its defined frame. "I'm glad you came back," The younger man announced, leaning with his elbows on his knees in a way that would've seemed invasive if anyone else had done it. "Had to go somewhere, here has AC." Sanghyuk snorted at Taekwoon's muttered retort, obviously not expecting a response from the other let alone a sassy one. He quickly realized though that Taekwoon had meant entirely what he'd said and straightened up a bit. "What about your apartment?" He asked softly, more curious than suggestive. Many councelors would treat people like they were stupid, insecure, too fragile to handle day to day life as if they'd barely been strong enough to endure the struggles that had made them as such. Sanghyuk treated Taekwoon like an old friend, one that seemed to understand his ups and downs and understood that there was a reason for the things that he hadnt yet gotten to understand. 

"Cant," Taekwoon started, choking up on his words as his throat knotted. He swallowed the rock in his windpipe down and slowly finished. "I can't... go back there right now." Sanghyuk didnt ask why, but his eyes were deep in their interest and Taekwoon felt obligated to continue. "Jaehwan's working a lot to pay for what I'm not doing. He hasn't had time to see his friends or go out, he's miserable and it's obvious." He blinked at his hands, noting that his nails were digging crescents through his jeans. "I feel guilty being there," he finally finished after a distracted pause. 

Sanghyuk nodded softly, leaning back into his chair and staring up at the ceiling. It was a conversation, not a consultation. Taekwoon felt a little better that the therapist wasn't staring at him the entire time. "Well... from what I know of Jaehwan, which isn't much, he's a very bold and blunt person." Taekwoon nodded, it was an accurate statement. Jaehwan would tell his friends that their asses looked nice in their jeans or skirts even if they didn't ask, he would tell strangers that they needed to stop being a dick if he passed them doing something he deemed was rude. "By that logic, if he really didn't want to work to help you through this, wouldn't he have told you?"

Taekwoon swallowed. He hadn't really thought about it, but his anxiety had already built up a counter. "I'm waiting for it," he whispered, feeling his voice decaying in his throat and hurriedly pressuring it to come back. "We've lived together for a while now but surely he's gonna get sick of toting me around. And he keeps saying they'd hire you back if you asked,' but I can't, I really can't. How do I work around people when I can barely drag myself out of bed? I don't even sleep during normal hours so I'd just be tired the entire shift and..." He was rambling, but Sanghyuk was actually listening so he continued, making an unsteady effort to slow his words to an audible drone.

"I'm exhausted," he breathed, rubbing his eyes tightly, remembering the makeup stains on Dahyun's hands and lowering his palms as if he'd have them too. His fingers were free of any such stain, translucently pale as always. "I just want to see Hakyeon again. I keep... I keep reading or studying or calling people who may know, I keep reading all this stupid paranormal stuff as if it'll do anything, as if someone'll know exactly what I'm talking about and tell me how to get him back." 

His voice quivered, and he couldn't stop the ramble this time if he'd tried. "There has to be something I can do, I promised him he'd come back. I talk to him all night and tell him that, that I'll get him back. But then recently I've been thinking, what if I can't find anything? What if what I try doesn't work? I don't even know anymore if he can even hear me when I talk to him, but I can't lose him, fuck I can't lose him!" He didn't know when he'd started crying, but he was sobbing hard and loud, unabashed and yet so ashamed of everything he couldn't do. "I love him so much, but I don't even know why I love him, I didn't have long enough to learn." Heavy, wrenching, his chest stuttering with the force of his pounding, screaming heart. "And I said to his face that night that it would be okay and..."

"Taekwoon," Sanghyuk interrupted softly, and the elder was somewhat glad that he did; he would've gone on for hours if left to do so. "You're not God." It was unexpected, and he blinked up in somewhat of a glare through tear-smeared eyes. Of course he wasn't, he knew that, so what was Sanghyuk trying to say? "God, perhaps, could take someone who is dying and save them by will alone. Therefore, if God chooses not to save them while having the ability to, God would be entitled to feel guilty later if He so wanted." What was this man even saying...? "But," Sanghyuk continued confidentally, "You're not God. It's probably one of the most difficult things as a human to accept in moments like these. It feels hopeless when you put your entire heart into something and still don't see results." Yes, that was what he was feeling. Hopeless, hopeless yet so desperate and determined that it was tearing him up inside, leaving tiny shredded bits that continued just slightly to meagerly hope. His nails finally tore a small rip into his jeans. He had much bigger things to mourn than the denim and started to pull at the fraying ends of the tear. 

"Grief is a harsh thing," Sanghyuk whispered. "Harsh and painful, especially when you put the burden on yourself to repair something you may not be able to do anything about." Taekwoon tried to swallow but his throat was far too tight, far too dry to. It hurt. Everything hurt right now, but it would hurt more to leave with this pain nestled inside. He needed to get it out. That was why he was here. "But there are ways to cope with it. Here, if you'd like, I'd love to get to know Hakyeon. The sun will be set soon, are you okay with staying a bit?" Taekwoon blinked up once more, this time in surprise. His councelor who he met only twice now... not only believed him, but wanted to meet Hakyeon...? "Yeah..." Taekwoon gurgled, nodding so quickly that the vertigo made him feel slightly more nauseous than he already did. "I was going to wait for him anyway."

They sat in the slowly darkening room like this, once illuminated brightly by the sunlight. The colors of the lowering sun outside the tall windows were in celebration of the precious moon's coming arrival. Taekwoon felt his heart racing, his stomach knotting. It was a bittersweet thing. Sanghyuk chatted with him like a colleague would, an aquaintance, get-to-know-you basics. Taekwoon learned that he lived alone with two dogs, a big, clumsy pitbull-mix and a contrastingly small chihuahua. He didn't drink coffee nearly as often as Taekwoon did, stating that it was too bitter but mentioned that he could do a sugary frappe on a good day. He'd gone to college for a few years but graduated quickly after taking as many classes at once and still passing with flying colors; Taekwoon determined that Sanghyuk was a prodegy. Listening to the other talk relaxed him from his nervous anticipation, and he spilled a few things about his own life as well. How he was working towards being a writer, taking a literature course that he hadn't shown up to in a week now. In the thirty minutes before Hakyeon arrived, it slowly, delicately became comfortable for Sanghyuk to be around. 

But the moment the sky was dark, Taekwoon rose to his feet, conversation suddenly vanishing from his mind, and Sanghyuk grabbed his backpack and followed him out the door, locking it behind him and turning to see Taekwoon sitting on the curb between the sidewalk and the parking lot, staring up at the widely crescent moon. "Hakyeon-ah, I'm back again," Taekwoon murmured, laying back to rest his head on the concrete behind him. 

Sanghyuk dropped his bag nearby and sat down beside the other, staring up at the sky. It was silent, as expected. Hakyeon never responded; Taekwoon always tacked it up as that he wasn't capable of it. His heart throbbed at the mental image of the other speaking to him too, trying to reach for the blue and grey planet as well, just barely falling short. Maybe Hakyeon was replying right now and he just couldn't hear him. Perhaps Hakyeon was actually in a trance or asleep, unable to intake Taekwoon's words. It was depricating that there was no way he could ever know if his words were getting through. 

"Tell me about him," Sanghyuk whispered, as if unsure if he should interrupt a conversation so private. Taekwoon closed his eyes, releasing a soft, gentle sigh. Everything hurt and Hakyeon wouldn't reply anyway. He tried to factor in the other's presence as its own response and began to acquiesce to Sanghyuk's request.

From the night he'd stumbled across him in the alley, dirty, injured, and unconscious, to the night on the pier before he disappeared, Taekwoon told Sanghyuk everything he could possibly say in such limited time about Hakyeon. A weight began to lift from his chest as he went on about the details, how confused he was when a horribly scraped-up Hakyeon was completely healed a few days later, how Hakyeon's silver hair was yellow under street lights and how they had layed in the grass at the park, talking to the moon before him. He explained the determination powering them through days straight of studying how to be the moon, described the night at the club in all of it's delirious, messy euphoria. And Sanghyuk took in every word willingly, occasionally glancing up at the moon as if trying to draw out the celestial rock into a young man with a lithe build and tanned skin, silver hair and sparkling eyes. They stayed there until their bodies were numb from laying on the asphalt for so long, until the sun had creeped over the horizon long enough and another night had come and pass without any change in Hakyeon's status other than the moon growing noticably in size, indicating the timer ticking on. It was almost the full moon; They were almost halfway through the month.

Sanghyuk's eyelids were heavy and he stumbled a bit as he stood, exhaustion evident on his tall frame, but he still smiled genuinely and thanked Taekwoon for introducing him. He asked if he'd be coming back, and Taekwoon didn't have to think about it this time to say 'probably.' As the sky erupted into pastel colors and the soft breeze shoved his bangs over his eyes, Taekwoon breathed for the first time since Hakyeon had disappeared and wondered whether or not he should feel guilty for doing so when Hakyeon wasn't here to do the same. 


End file.
